Brothers Under the Bright Circle
by Spiritstrike
Summary: What if Littlefoot hadn't been alone on his journey to the Great Valley before meeting his four faithful friends? What if he had someone he had known his entire life, but still didn't know much about? Whiplash hides a mysterious past that has scarred him forever. Will they be divided when it resurfaces?
1. Welcome to the New World

**This is my first ever Land Before Time fanfiction that I've been working on for a long time ever since my childhood days. I'd originally intended to write a dinosaur novel a few years ago, but after much work and getting nowhere, I decided it wasn't worth it and that fanfiction was the best way to go. Almost all the OCs in this story were once part of that story called** **Towards the Dawn** **. But seeing as how it would no longer work, I worked extra hard to ensure that these characters fit quite comfortably in the LBT world. They have the exact same background like in my original novel, but with a few differences to make them fit.**

 **I hope you will enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing it! Let me know if there is anything that doesn't fit with my OCs and what I need to work on to make them more realistic. I'd really appreciate any criticism on them as I really want them to be relatable in some way to the audiences.**

 **Enjoy!**

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 **Brothers Under the Bright Circle**

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 **Chapter 1**

 **Welcome to the New World**

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Sky fire clapped violently in the dark night, illuminating the world below it. It was pretty far away to be a danger to anyone, but one could only hope that no one was struck by its terrifying fire. The approaching wind howled as it blew across the wasteland landscape, it would not be long before the sky water fell and drenched the dried world that was dying of thirst. Even its inhabitants knew with great relief that sky water meant water, something to desperately quench their dust-caked mouths and sore throats.

A female longnecked dinosaur raised her head to the dark clouded sky. She would not be seeing the stars tonight, but the approaching sky water would be a wonderful welcome for her one remaining hatchling. She looked back down, checking to make sure that the egg was safe. It was and she sighed with relief. She and her mother and father – the soon-to-be grandparents – had been quite unfortunate with the brood. Originally, she had laid at least four eggs in a single nest, but almost all of them had been taken by egg stealing predators. Were it not for the timely arrival of a lone male longneck, the last one would not have made it this far.

The soon-to-be mother turned her head toward the strange longneck who stood like a guardian nearby on a rocky outcrop. He hadn't moved since his joining of the herd, only saying a few words such as saying his name was Whiplash and that he'd been searching for a herd that would accept him. They had without question after he'd saved their last egg, and now he stood nearby at the edge of the lake, his head searching left and right for any signs of danger that would dare to harm the family that had adopted him.

She frowned thoughtfully, having never seen such a strange looking longneck like him before. He was quite large for his age, just barely ten cold times old, and yet still large enough to be intimidating at first glance. He had a long thin, whip-like tail that his parents had named him for and a long, thin neck. His skin was slightly paler than the raging storm clouds above them, and stoic, yet kind, yellow eyes hidden beneath high eyebrows were often sent her way to make sure everything was alright. To her surprise, he often kept turning his left cheek away until she saw a small thin scar on the side beneath his eye, it was as though he was deeply ashamed to even show it to them.

Whoever Whiplash was, and whatever his past was, and despite his strange appearance, the mother longneck felt that he could be trusted to look out for her family.

Taking her glance from the guardian and turning it to her single egg, she gave it an affectionate nuzzle with her snout. She could feel the tiny tremors of the new life inside, it would not be long before it would hatch and she would have her very first offspring to care for and nurture. The touching moment was short-lived when she remembered her mate, whom she recalled was out in search of a place where they could live peacefully. It had been four full Night Circles since she had last seen him and she feared the worst. An overwhelming sense of sadness crept into her heart and she wished that he was here. When the egg hatched, the family would have to move on and search for a new home themselves or risk starvation, and their son would never know the face of their father.

"Why are you down, my daughter? Shouldn't you be happy that the time is soon?"

She lifted her head and saw her aged father looking at her, half submerged in the water, and a mouthful of water green food. The sudden flash of the sky fire protruded his dark and pale grey skin, his wise violet eyes soft and calm despite the sudden noise that made her flinch.

"I am aware that this should be a wonderful time, father," the mother longneck replied, and she took a mouthful herself from his generous offer. She grimaced slightly at the dull taste, but it was better than nothing. She shouldn't turn her nose up at any offer of food, no matter how tasteless or foul it was. "But… I miss him… I miss him so much… I… I just wish he was here to see this…"

As the single tear fell down her cheek, a single drop of water splashed on her snout and she flinched with surprise. Her father turned his gaze upward, a thoughtful expression appearing. "I cannot say for certain that he has perished, my daughter," he said gently, "but he would be so proud to have had a hatchling. A clutch would have been something, yes, but a single one that survived such a world like this… they would be very special to the both of you."

She nodded in agreement, forever thankful for his encouragement. Her mate would have been thrilled if he witnessed this. She sighed softly as more sky water started to fall, falling faster and faster until the whole world was drenched to the bone. Around them, dinosaurs of many different kinds began to roar their happiness. The sky water had come at last.

But, to her surprise, there was another roar, but it was different, it was… not of joy, but of alarm!

It took her less than a second to realise what had just happened. Whiplash had uttered an alarming roar and she had been so caught up in her thoughts of her mate that she had taken her eyes off the egg. She turned just in time to witness an egg stealer making a grab for her egg! _No!_ The creature snatched her egg in its sharp claws, gripping it tightly and making a dash for the grass, but it barely had a chance to even make away with its prize. A sudden crack and a whoosh of air breezed past the mother as an enormous thin tail cut through, flashing like the sky fire and catching the egg stealer in the chest. It screeched with pain, dropping the egg instantly, and flew through the air, smashing against a rock with a sickening crack.

Whiplash was upon it before it could get up again. Never had she seen such a longneck of his size move so swiftly. He raised a single foot and crushed the egg stealer without a second thought. Utter rage pierced his brow as he kept his foot upon it, putting as much weight as he could as though he was determined to send a message to it as its life ended: _you were caught, and you will never harm another hatchling again_.

But she had no time to comprehend the situation.

"The egg!" she cried frantically. She hurried over to the river where the egg stealer had dropped the egg, only to find no sign of it. She searched desperately, trying to find her only child. Terrible questions lingered at the back of her mind: _What if it was smashed? What if a belly dragger found it? What if that egg stealer wasn't alone?_ All of these questions terrified her to no end, but a cry of relief turned her attention downstream.

"Over here!"

She trotted over to her mother, who had also been searching the moment the egg had disappeared from sight. She found her standing over a waterfall, it wasn't as high as she had thought, so it was possible that the egg had drifted this way and had fallen. She, her father, and Whiplash came up alongside her mother and looked down, tears of fear and distress welling up in her eyes, only to be washed away by the sky water. At first, she thought the egg hadn't survived, but she was proven wrong when she saw it at the bottom on a small island, cracked, but intact.

She carefully made her way down to the egg, grateful that it was still alive, but a small glimmer of uncertainty still plagued her mind. Was the hatchling dead inside? She nuzzled it, hoping to find some form of life.

Something wriggled against her nose and her eyes widened.

The baby was alive, and it was hatching!

"Mother, father, its coming!"

The two elders carefully made their way down a slope that seemed to bear their weight. Whiplash followed behind the two, just as careful as them because of his larger size. Together, the two grandparents stood alongside their daughter, ready to witness the birth of the next generation.

A tail poked out from the top of the egg, followed by the two back feet. The mother longneck giggled as she realised that the egg had been upside down for the poor thing. It must have got a wakeup call when it fell off the waterfall, much to her amusement. The rest of the eggshell fell away, revealing a lovely brown and grey male hatchling with innocent red eyes. Tears of relief and joy came to the mother and she bent her head down to examine her son… her son, her mate's son, her parents' grandson… Her very special son… her…

The hatchling's eyes rested upon her and blinked innocently up at her. She pressed her snout to him, but he flinched away, possibly expecting a threat as he curled up into a ball and hiding his face.

"He's really small," the soft voice of Whiplash commented with a hint of amusement. "I do not remember being that small." His expression changed to a faraway look, as though he was trying to remember something. He shook his head and turned to the mother as she carefully picked her son up by the skin on his back. "I'll… give you some space if you want," he offered respectfully, bowing his head.

The mother placed her hatchling on her back, his squeak of confusion causing her to chuckle. She turned to Whiplash as he moved away, and she shook her head. "No, stay, you saved my son's life, Whiplash. It's the least I can do for what you did. If you hadn't come, I would have lost him to egg stealers."

Whiplash tilted his head, unnoticeably showing the thin scar upon his cheek, as though he was considering her offer. He looked from her, to the grandparents, to the hatchling (who stared wide-eyed up at him), and then back at her. Finally, a small smile crossed his lips and his sullen expression changed to relief. His stance relaxed and he took a step forward, lowering his head until he was looking the hatchling right in the eye.

"Hello, little one," he said kindly, "I'm Whiplash, it's nice to finally meet you."

The mother looked up at her mother and father and they nuzzled her affectionately. Whiplash would make an excellent elder brother to the hatchling. Then, the grandmother's eyes turned to a frown. "What are you going to name him?" she asked her daughter.

She frowned. She hadn't really thought about it, then again, her parents did name her, and Whiplash also had a name. So it would only be fitting to name her son as well. The responsibility fell on her and her alone. Her mate was not here to witness this, but… if he was out there somewhere, still alive and possibly coming home, then she'd need to name her son something that he might know… should anything happen to her. Then, she remembered something that her mate had once said long ago when they first met.

"Littlefoot," she said out loud, "that is what I will call him."

A knowing glance came between the grandparents and they bent their necks to nuzzle their now sleeping grandson. "Welcome to the family, Littlefoot," Grandpa Longneck whispered.


	2. The Changing Land

**Glad you guys are liking it so far! It makes me feel good that people are interested. Here's the next chapter as a reward!**

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 **Brothers Under the Bright Circle**

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 **Chapter 2**

 **The Changing Land**

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 _Five Years Later_

The overbearing heat from the Bright Circle leered down upon the land, having shrivelled up the last of reachable green food that would sustain what remained of the herds that stuck close to home, hoping for a sign that the sky water would come again. They all knew what would happen if they stuck close, but they denied it in the hopes that they were right and someone was wrong. In the end, it led to their downfall while those that left in the hope of finding food and water would find something at least. To stay was to die, to move was to live and die later.

This, the small family of five longnecks knew, but it was still quite new to the youngest of the herd. Littlefoot, who had been so used to eating his fair share of food, was now starting to realise just how difficult life was. His mother wished that her son did not have to grow up under such hardships, but it was the best that she could do as the largest of their herd placed a pile of bark at his feet.

Littlefoot crinkled his face in disgust at the brown sticks, but he couldn't afford to complain when his mother, grandparents and his brother were just as hungry as he was. They were giving up every bit of food they could find to feed his still growing body. He could still recall how Whiplash had been just above his grandpa's height, but that had all changed in the past five cold times. Now he towered over them, making Littlefoot feel insignificantly small compared to him. All he knew was that Whiplash had been part of the family since the day he was born and he'd accepted him as a brotherly figure.

But what good was a family if they were all going to just starve by standing here and eating these disgusting sticks of bark?

His mother seemed to read his mind, because the moment she heard his growling stomach, she lifted her head and looked around them. All the trees were completely barren to the point their trunks no longer had any bark. They were dead and dying, stripped of any signs of life. It was a wasteland.

His grandma and grandpa looked up too while Whiplash just seemed to chew on a mouthful of bark. Perhaps it was out of boredom or perhaps it was out of a desire to keep his mind from whatever was lingering back there. Whatever the reason, his sullen eyes continued to stare to into a void that Littlefoot could not see at all.

"There's hardly anything left," Grandpa Longneck commented with a gravely sigh. "We can't keep eating like this. He needs something and so do we, especially at the rate that Whiplash is growing."

Whiplash paused in his thoughtful chewing and eyed the elderly male longneck. "You don't have to worry about me, Grandpa," he said calmly with a hint of a smile, "it's Littlefoot I'm more worried about."

"I understand your worries, Father," their mother said softly, eyeing her son carefully. "And you're right, we can't keep eating like this and Littlefoot needs to eat something that will make him strong. But…" she paused, and her eyes seemed to water up, "is he old enough and strong enough to make the journey?" Her voice became even more worried as she spoke. "And what of…?"

She couldn't bring herself to say anymore as she struggled so hard not to show her desperation for her mate. He had been gone for so long that she was beginning to lose hope that she would ever see him again. She felt something press itself into her cheek comfortingly and she caught the soft brown eyes of her mother.

"He will find us, my daughter," she whispered kindly, and her eyes shifted over to her grandson, who continued to pick at the dull tasting bark. "But until then, we can't say a word of this to Littlefoot. If I know your mate, and if he found what we left behind, he'll catch up with us. But right now our priority is to move now while our stomachs are full. You have seen this paradise in your sleep stories, now is the time for you to guide us home."

Whiplash nodded in agreement along with Grandpa Longneck. "She's right," he replied. "If the way you described to him is true, he will find us."

They had their goal in mind, now they just had to get to it, and it was best to move while they could. "You're right," she said, nodding firmly, "both of you are."

"Which way do we need to go?" Whiplash asked.

She looked up toward the sky, where the Bright Circle was hanging and beginning to set behind the far distant mountains. She nodded in the general direction, "That way." She started to make her way to the edge of the dead forest, her eyes squinting but focusing on the destination at hand.

Littlefoot looked up with a start when he felt something press against his back and he looked up to see Whiplash pushing him with his snout. "Where are we going?" he asked.

"To a place to call home," Whiplash chuckled as he nudged him again and Littlefoot swatted his nose with his tail, causing him to snort in bemusement. "It's called the Great Valley."

"The Great Valley?" Littlefoot asked as he trailed after his mother with Whiplash walking over him, and his grandmother and grandfather walking behind. "I've never heard of it."

"It's a place where we will be safe and have lots of green food and water to drink," Grandpa explained. "Your mother has had sleep stories of it, and we heard of it from herds we've seen in the past. However…"

"None of us have even seen it," Grandma finished.

Littlefoot blinked, confused by this discussion but he continued to follow his mother. "But isn't that just it?" he asked. "It's just a sleep story. How does she know it's really there?"

His mother suddenly stopped and he bumped against her leg with an 'oof'. She turned her neck and her soft brown eyes peered into his red ones, motherly and kind. "There's only so much I've seen with my eyes," she explained, "but there are others I've seen with my heart."

"But… I don't understand," he protested.

A soft giggle emitted from her throat and she pressed her snout to his chin. "Someday you will, my son," she whispered. "You will."

"Mother, what is that?"

She looked up at the sound of Whiplash's voice and saw him gazing at something up at the treetops. She followed his eyes and saw something that made her gasp with shock. High up in the trees, dripping with water and shining with a beautiful green… was a large leaf shaped like a star in the night sky. It had been a long time since she had seen anything of that colour and her heart seemed to leap into her throat and fill her eyes with tears. Here was something that she could give to her son, and perhaps give him something that he had never seen before in his life.

She reached up to try and grab it, but her neck was far too short, and she snorted with frustration. Here was something she hadn't seen in a long time and she could not reach it! She stomped a paw and tried again but fell short. Then, to her surprise, a shadow fell over her and she saw Whiplash easily grasp the delicate green food with his teeth and gently plucked it off its safe branch. He inclined his eyes downward and she nodded firmly. He knew what she wanted, and he lowered his head, letting go of the sweet star and dropped it in front of his little brother.

Littlefoot stepped back cautiously, not understanding what this strange thing was. It was shaped like a star and had acted like it had fallen from the night sky itself, shining with precious water. When it settled on a rock in front of him, he peered at it carefully, eying every detail he could notice.

"What is this?" he breathed. He had never seen such a lovely shade of colour like this before. It was both strange and beautiful at the same time, shimmering in the fading light.

"That, my son," said his mother, "is a tree star. It's green food."

"Green food," Littlefoot repeated, rolling the strange word off his tongue. He inched forward and licked it. He jumped back as if he had been stung by a buzzing stinger! Never had he tasted anything like it! It tasted so incredibly sweet and bitter all at once. Here was something he had never seen nor tasted before and it almost felt like it had awakened an inner desire to consume it.

He grabbed it with his forepaws and breathed in its scent deeply. He wanted to eat it so badly, but something seemed to be holding him back, as though he did not want to remove something so special. Maybe he could decide about that later. He picked the leaf up in his mouth and tossed it onto his back.

Whiplash raised an eyebrow and so did his Mother, Grandpa and Grandma. Was he not hungry? Children can be so strange. Shaking their heads, they proceeded onward, leaving the skeleton forest behind them and following the setting Bright Circle.

Then, as though he suddenly felt cold, Littlefoot looked up and noticed that Whiplash was no longer standing over him, but rather… behind Grandma. He glanced over his shoulder, only to see his brother looking over his shoulder. He frowned, puzzled by this strange behaviour.

And seeing as how Whiplash was not in hearing range, Littlefoot trotted ahead until he was beneath his mother. She glanced down, sensing he had something on his mind. She waited with motherly patience for him to gather his thoughts, but continued walking.

"Mother?" Littlefoot finally spoke. "Where did Whiplash come from? Why is he not like us?"

The questions almost caught her off guard but she quickly composed herself, having suspected that those questions were due for an answer, but not this soon. Very gently and keeping her voice low so that only Littlefoot could hear, she explained, "It's very difficult to answer, and I'm certain you have regarded Whiplash as your brother ever since you hatched."

His nod confirmed it.

She sighed. "Littlefoot, Whiplash is not related to you or me, nor your grandparents. He came to our herd a month before you hatched. He did nothing but stand watch over us, always keeping an eye out for those that would do us harm. Before he came, I had more eggs. You would have had siblings, but, as it was my first clutch, I was careless in protecting the nest and lost all but you. He hardly spoke and mostly kept to himself. He still does today, but he opens a little more when you're around and speaks more when you ask him questions or play with him. I'm surprised he started calling me his mother after you hatched, but you calling him 'brother' has brought something out of him."

She frowned as she regarded the Bright Circle, checking that they were still on course, then she continued.

"When he came to our nest, he hardly spoke more than a few words other than his name and looking for a herd to join. We, of course, gladly welcomed his company. From that point on, he kept any egg stealers coming near the nest. Were it not for him, you… would not be here today and we would not be having this conversation right now."

Littlefoot looked downward, his focus solely on the ground, but she knew… she knew that he was deeply thinking over the discussion. Littlefoot was a deep thinker, always letting things roll in his mind to try and understand. He was still so young, but the land around them had forced him and his family to consider things more carefully, but he was still a child.

Something blocked the light above him and he found himself overshadowed by a tall figure. He looked up, expecting his mother to be there, but instead a firm snout pushed him with enough strength to knock him off his feet easily but not to cause any harm. He fell on his side and glared up at Whiplash. The large, smirking longneck bent his head down and nudged him once more, but this time…

"Hey!" Littlefoot giggled when Whiplash's nose bumped a sensitive spot. "Quit it!"

He flicked his tail to prove a point, but it did nothing to deter Whiplash. He nudged him again and Littlefoot's giggling only worsened the situation, resulting in him rolling on his back and Whiplash continuing his 'assault' on his helpless brother.

Grandma and Grandpa smiled fondly as Whiplash poked Littlefoot a few more times in the stomach with his nose, laughing until his sides ached. Finally, Whiplash pulled back and Littlefoot was able to breathe in relief, but he glared up at him in annoyance. Whiplash knew that it was all a show and he winked at him. Littlefoot picked himself up and shook the dirt from his back, grumbling under his breath.

Suddenly, he was yanked up off the ground by his tail and he found himself dangling in mid-air, legs flailing frantically. "Whiplash!" he cried.

"Relax, little brother," Whiplash said gently between his teeth and he carefully dropped him on his back.

This time, Littlefoot glared even harder at him. "Don't do that!" he hissed, swatting a paw at Whiplash's nose, but it did little to affect the larger longneck.

But as he did this, he couldn't help but notice all the details on his face. His snout was longer, the nostrils in his forehead thinner, and his throat was seemingly thicker than he originally imagined. Not once had he remembered riding on his brother's back, and never had he seen such a strange yellow colour in his eyes. He spotted the tinges of green on the outer yellow. But that wasn't what drew him to Whiplash's youthful but hardened expression, it was the barely noticeable thin scar on his left cheek. It was the first time he had seen it and he couldn't help but wonder: what had Whiplash been through before he joined the herd?

A jolt of softness interrupted his stare and he realised that his tree star had been returned to his back.

His mother licked him gently on the head. Whiplash lowered his head slightly and she did the same, but to his unscarred side. "Come along," she ordered, but there was the unmistakeable hint of mirth in her tone.

With that said, the family resumed their walk for as long as the Bright Circle remained in the sky. Now that he was perched on something higher, Littlefoot finally took note of his new world. Just like in the barren forest, there was nothing but dirt, jagged rocks and an occasional ground crawler attempting to seek shelter before darkness approached. He wondered what sort of creatures came out at the time of the Great Night Circle because he hadn't seen anything but ground crawlers, bugs and a few flyers that ignored him when he tried to make conversation with them.

Growing bored and restless after so long, he tapped a paw on Whiplash's thick skin and he complied by lowering his neck. Leaning backward, he slid down his neck and onto the ground, landing with a soft thud and a kick of dust. He suddenly remembered as his tree star fell off his back and he quickly caught it in his mouth, afraid that he would get dirt on something so precious.

A gurgle emitted inside, and he groaned feverishly. Whiplash chuckled and shook his head.

Then again, Littlefoot hadn't eaten anything other than the dull tasting bark, and his tree star was looking really tempting right now. He sniffed it deeply, the beautiful aroma hitting his nostrils and making his mouth water. He prepared to take a nibble of it…

And then, he heard something.

It sounded like… something was laughing, and it sounded… like it was a girl, only it wasn't his mother or grandma's giggle, they wouldn't laugh at him like this. No, this one sounded… younger, around his age, maybe?

Glancing up, he spotted his mother, Whiplash, and his grandparents stopping to take a break from walking, snacking on the dull bark and dry grass. He flinched in disgust and stood up. He was going to investigate this strange sound. He hadn't even played with a longneck his age, and he had no friends. In fact, he hadn't even met anyone else outside his herd. He could go and make a friend and ask them if they wanted to travel with them to the Great Valley!

Feeling very pleased with himself, he left his tree star and tilted his head, listening to the continuing giggles of the girl. It was coming from the edge of the tree line through dense grass taller than himself.

Checking to make sure that no one had seen him move, he lowered himself to the ground and edged through the dry grass with a quiet rustle.

Only someone had seen him sneak away and he was determined to find out what he had seen.


	3. Inner Instinct

**I honestly hope the wait was worth it.**

 **Chapters will be submitted whenever I finish another chapter before them.**

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 **Brothers Under the Bright Circle**

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 **Chapter 3**

 **Inner Instinct**

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Pushing amongst the thick brown grass, Littlefoot struggled to contain his excitement at the possibly meeting another dinosaur, and his curiosity only grew the louder the laughter became. He was getting closer to the sound now and he pushed onward until he came to the edge of the trees. He wriggled his head through and blinked with wide eyes at the sight before him.

There, laughing and giggling was a yellow female dinosaur unlike anything he had seen before. She did not have the long neck that he and his family had, but a small sharp horn between her nostrils, and a wide frill that covered the top of her head. She charged into the beak of a larger grey form of herself, only this one had a longer pair of horns on top of his eyebrows. The small female laughed as she fell flat on her back and picked herself up on all four feet. She squatted down slightly, pawing at the ground in preparation for another charge, only to stop when something caught the corner of her eye.

It was a flying, blue shelled creature with six legs and a long horn on its face that Littlefoot had seen on the journey. He had tried to catch one of them before but had never succeeded. Smiling, he watched as the strange dinosaur let off a bellowing scream and chased after the bug, running until she smacked into a rock the bug had landed on, only for it to fly onto another one. She sniffed with annoyance and charged at the other rock, only for the bug to repeat the process. She bounded after it again, only for the new rock to not break from her strength.

Shaking her head to clear some of the dizziness, she slowly snuck her way up toward the bug that had turned its back on her.

"Hey!" Littlefoot called eagerly, hoping to get her attention, but she ignored him and prepared to take chomp out of the little critter. Only to her surprise that she found her open mouth suddenly filled with a disgusting foul taste. She spat the horrible stuff out and shook herself to clear her vision of the blue liquid the creature had sprayed her with.

Then she heard the laughter and gritted her teeth, now aware of her audience, she squinted her eyes.

"What are you laughing at?" she sneered.

Littlefoot gasped and expected the new dinosaur to be quite mad over his laughing, only it was not of disdain or annoyance, but rather she showed some mirth and playfulness. She was pawing at the ground like before in preparation to charge. Finally, someone his age he could play with! He leapt out from behind the brown grass and copied her movement, his stance at the ready.

She let off a challenging roar and charged toward him, while Littlefoot ran with just as much eagerness to play. But all of it was cut short when a deeper, louder sound of warning cut the game in half. The ground began to shake, rocks scattering beneath their feet as an enormous foot stood between them, hiding the girl dinosaur from view. Littlefoot bit back a desire to cry out for help, petrified by the larger horned dinosaur leering over him like a shadow.

The three-horned dinosaur leered down on him, growling in warning. Terrified, he backed away, his legs shaking with fear. There was another bellow, but this one was less deeper and more threatening. Littlefoot had recalled in the past Whiplash bellowing a warning about a nearby threat, but this one was very different. This one was more threatening and more determined that he ever thought. The ground shook louder and all three turned their heads at the sight of the large galloping longneck. In mere seconds, Whiplash had covered the ground and placed a foot down between the adult threehorn and his little brother.

Whiplash leaned his long neck down and glared venomously at the other dinosaur, his lips were pulled back to reveal his teeth, even though it didn't appear very threatening, but the curling of his long tail and his stance signalled a warning to not try anything rash. Never had Littlefoot seen Whiplash so angry since he had known him.

For a very long and intensive moment, the two large dinosaurs stared at each other while Littlefoot and the girl threehorn watched with wonder and fear. Then, the large threehorn shook his horns and rattled his frill in a threatening display, hoping to scare Whiplash away, but the large longneck did not back down and continued to make his stance, his tail raising higher as though to warn the threehorn he would strike at any moment if he chose to. He growled, only it was louder and more threatening than before. His tail lashed out, but did not strike, and a booming crack echoed through the plains.

This was a final warning to not bring harm to his fellow herd member, his little brother.

But the threehorn was not so easily deterred and he stepped forward, thrusting his horns forward. Again, Whiplash continued to stand his ground, his desire to protect Littlefoot was stronger than ever. However, Littlefoot felt that as long as he was between Whiplash and the threehorn, Whiplash would not budge.

Finally, with his eyes still on the threehorn, Whiplash spoke, but his voice was focused and hard, "Littlefoot, get back to your mother… now!"

Littlefoot blinked, surprised, but he watched as the male threehorn kept his eyes on Whiplash but was speaking from the corner of his mouth, dust puffing out from his nostrils as he snorted, "Cera, return to your mother. Threehorns never play with Longnecks. Let that be a lesson for you today."

"Hmph!" Cera huffed and she spat her tongue at Littlefoot, only for it to be cut short when Whiplash growled even louder with warning. She jumped and ran back to her waiting mother, while Littlefoot carefully backed away, but he didn't back up fast enough as something strong yanked him up by the tail and into the air.

To his surprise, it was Whiplash who had him, but his eyes were still focused on the threehorn. Slowly, Whiplash began to step back, and his eyes silently communicated to the threehorn to not do anything irrational. The threehorn seemed to be doing the same thing, and a mutual understanding came between the two large dinosaurs. They were only protecting their loved ones from the harshness of the world, and if it had to involve a fight between another leaf eater, then it would. They simply nodded at each other and Whiplash turned away to make his way back to the worried family that was waiting for them.

"Hey, Whiplash, what's a longneck, and what is a threehorn?" Littlefoot suddenly asked, jolting Whiplash from his thoughts.

Whiplash sighed. "It's what me, you, your mother and your grandparents are, Littlefoot," he explained softly, though his voice was not very gentle. "We are the longnecks. The threehorns are what those dinosaurs you encountered are."

Quite roughly, he dropped Littlefoot on his mother's back where his tree star was waiting for him.

"What happened out there?" Littlefoot's mother demanded once they were safely back near the trees. His grandparents came over too, just as worried as their daughter. "You aren't hurt, are you?"

"No, no, I'm fine!" Littlefoot protested as his grandmother gave him a quick lick on the cheek.

A snort caught his ear and he saw Whiplash glaring down at him with disappointment in his eyes. He slumped dejectedly, he knew what was coming. "Littlefoot was attempting to play with a child threehorn," Whiplash explained. "Her father jumped in to prevent them from playing, so I too stepped in to make sure that Littlefoot was not going to be harmed by him. Of course, we were both trying to protect our little ones, so we supposedly came to an understanding. No one was hurt."

That was the first time Littlefoot had heard Whiplash speak so much. It was not often that he spoke, but when he did it was usually pretty serious, and this was quite serious. He hung his head down as his mother scorned him for wandering off and leaving the protection of the herd. He understood her worry, and that he could have gotten hurt and she would not have been there to protect him. Thank the stars Whiplash had been watching him when he had ran off to follow the noise.

"But mother," Littlefoot said suddenly, getting her attention, "I just wanted someone my age to play with. Why couldn't it be Cera?"

His mother looked at his grandparents and then at Whiplash, and she sighed softly. "We must keep to our own kinds," she explained. "It's always been that way since I was a hatchling."

"You mean even you don't know and yet you keep away from others that aren't longnecks?" Littlefoot asked, sounding horrified.

She was silent, but his grandfather lowered his neck slightly until he was at eye level with his grandson. "It has always been that way, little one, even when me and your grandma were really small," he told him. "But now is not the time to dwell on what has been known for generations."

His mother and Whiplash nodded in agreement, and they resumed their journey. As punishment for his misbehaviour, Littlefoot was to ride on his mother's back for the rest of the day and tomorrow. He could not help but feel he didn't deserve such a punishment for wanting to play with someone. There wasn't anyone in his herd nor his own kind around, and it would be a long time before they even saw another longneck, let alone the Great Valley. His mother reassured him that when they reached their destination, there would be many of kind his age to play with, for now, he would have to settle with now.

The Bright Circle eventually began to dip behind the mountains ahead of them, letting the cloak of darkness envelop them and allowing the Night Circle to take its place. The small herd came to a set of old trees near a bubbling pool of water, and they settled down for the night. Littlefoot was very grateful for a chance to stop and rest, and his mother allowed him to return to the ground to stretch his legs and shake whatever was troubling his youthful energy.

Despite the time to rest and drink, Littlefoot still felt some intensity coming from Whiplash. Then again, he had been moments away from striking out at Cera's father and possibly causing a future blood feud between the two families. It was great that no one had been hurt, but it still left Littlefoot feeling puzzled by Whiplash's unusual behaviour, it was though he hardly knew him at all.

As the family settled down to sleep, with his mother and grandparents leaning against the trees for some form of support, Whiplash did not join them like he usually did every night. Instead, he moved a short distance from them and curled up in the open plains with his back turned to them, the Night Circle seemed to cast a silver glow on his greyish brown body, making him appear like a boulder if a passing predator had bad eyesight.

Worry gripped Littlefoot's heart, but he stayed where he was on his mother's back until she fell asleep. Slowly, he picked himself up and slid down her tail, hoping that she would not notice. He quietly tiptoed over to Whiplash's supposedly sleeping form. He peeked over his neck, but was startled to see him still awake, but his eyes were focused on the Night Circle itself. But what made it even stranger was the sad far away look in his usually stoic yellow eyes. Unfortunately, it wasn't what else that caught his attention, but rather the wet streaks that were left at the corner of his eyes.

Whiplash had been crying.

But before Littlefoot could point this out and ask what was troubling him, Whiplash immediately spotted him and used a forepaw to wipe away the wetness. Gone was the saddening emotion, replaced by his usual calm and stoic demeaner.

"Littlefoot," he gasped through a huff to try and hide a choking sound at the back of his throat, "shouldn't you be asleep with your mother?"

Littlefoot paused for a moment, wondering if he should speak about what he saw, but thought against it and replied, "I was just worried about you. I couldn't sleep after what happened today, so…" Carefully he climbed over Whiplash's forelegs and underneath his neck. "I thought I'd sleep here tonight, to make sure you were okay."

Something flashed across Whiplash's face, but it was gone before he acknowledged it, but he was pretty sure it was surprise. The elder longneck didn't reply to his request, but Littlefoot took it as an invitation to curl up into a ball. Whiplash watched hesitantly, but he didn't protest nor push Littlefoot away, but eventually he slowly lowered his neck and curled his tail around to provide some warmth and comfort to them both, and also to shield Littlefoot from a potential predator's sights.

Slowly, he began to drift off to sleep, almost completely unaware of the movement near his feet.

* * *

Stomping through the darkness of the night, a large dark green and black carnivorous dinosaur sniffed the air with anticipation and hunger. For several days and nights, he had been following a small herd of longnecks, hoping for a chance to prey on at least one of them. But the largest member of the family had forced him to keep a relatively safe distance. Ever since he had smelt them, his stomach had grown emptier and he was determined to fill it up with a bellyful of longneck flesh. Unfortunately, he hadn't exactly been able to see them with his sharp red eyes and lay out a cunning plan to ambush.

As far as Sharptooth was aware, the small herd seemed to be constantly on the move, looking for that green stuff they ate? Whatever the reason was, he was becoming more and more hungrier by the day. If he did not eat soon, he would surely starve to death and his quest to hunt would have all been for nothing. But as he kept on with his pursuit, the moment of truth eventually presented itself to him.

His keen sense of smell had picked up the hatchling moving away from the safety of the herd, following by what appeared to be a threehorn hatchling as well. It was not what he was expecting, but it was no matter. Meat was meat, and he could not pass up an opportunity like this. With his tongue snaking out to lick his teeth in preparation for the hunt, Sharptooth began to silently make his way over to the swamp where he knew the hatchlings would be playing.

Very soon he would be feasting upon their flesh and he would have a full stomach by the time the Bright Circle rose in the sky.


	4. Monster Shaking Nightmares

**Someone had asked as a guest what kind of sauropod/longneck Whiplash was.**

 **Well, I can't exactly answer what kind he is, but I can tell you that he is mostly a Diplodocus.**

 **As River Song in Doctor Who said… SPOILERS… -winks-**

 **This was one of the hardest chapters I ever had to write. It was a real pain in the ass because of all the action was involved and I hated it. I'm not exactly happy with the way it turned out, but I suppose it was better than nothing. Doing dinosaur battles is not very easy, but the next chapter is going to be even harder for me…**

 **You will see why.**

* * *

 **Brothers Under the Bright Circle**

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

 **Monster Shaking Nightmares**

* * *

Littlefoot hadn't expected to spot a hopper so far from the water, and he certainly wasn't going to let it get away that easily. To see dinosaurs of different species was interesting to say the least, spotting a creature unlike his own kind let alone something with back legs longer than its body presented an opportunity to learn more about this strange world he lived in. He'd snuck away from the sleeping form of Whiplash and had made a dash for the hopper, hoping to catch it before it got away back into the water. He heaved himself over a rock as the hopper made its way to the water and ducked beneath large branches and brambles. He barely managed to avoid scraping his skin against a thorn that protruded above him like a black shadow.

The croaking of the hopper alerted his attention when he thought he had lost sight of it and he quickly raced after it. It had gone down to the water to escape him, and he wasn't going to lose his chance of learning what it was.

"Hey, hopper, come back!" he urged with a smile, hoping to persuade the hopper to stay, but it kept on hopping, croaking as it went along. "Hey!"

As he climbed up the rocks that led to the swamp, he suddenly jumped when a voice spoke with absolute authority, "You again?!" To his surprise, the very same threehorn (Cera was it?) came from out of nowhere and charged directly at him. He stepped back as she glared up at him and stuck her horn into his face. "Go away!" she snapped. She then turned and stuck her tail in the air. "That's MY hopper!" With that said, she turned and marched toward the slope.

Littlefoot scowled at her from behind, pouting, "I saw him first."

He slowly followed her, determined to catch the hopper first, but she looked back at him with an annoyed huff, steam escaping her nostrils. "Well," she snapped, "he's in my pond."

With that said, she proceeded to slide down the slope in front of her, disappearing from sight. Littlefoot's frown deepened and he raced after her. He slid on his belly down the rocky slope, only to gasp with surprise when he ran into her, his weight combined with her slightly smaller size resulted in her dunking her head beneath the surface of the water. Quickly, he pulled back to give her some space and she sat back to shake the water off her face. She turned and scowled venomously at him. Littlefoot just grinned playfully and shrugged his shoulders, but the moment was short-lived when the unmistakable sounds of croaking caught their attention. It suddenly occurred to Littlefoot that the hopper had not been alone and had been joined with many others, all of them hiding in the bubbles of the swamp.

Seizing her chance, Cera leapt for a nearby bubble with a hopper inside and it quickly let off a loud popping sound, but there was no sign of the hopper. It had vanished back into the water! Frustrated, she pounced onto another, but was met with the same results. Littlefoot quickly jumped back to get out the threehorn's way when another bubble had formed underneath him and she squashed it flat. He laughed as he too repeated the action of jumping on another bubble, and soon Cera was also having a good time playing this new game.

They were, unfortunately, completely oblivious to a looming shadow that was taking the Night Circle's glow away. It wasn't until the shadow had engulfed them entirely did the two young dinosaurs become aware of thundering footsteps that shook the ground. Gasping, the two of them glanced around in panic as a deep growling noise came from behind. Immediately, Cera whirled around and her eyes widened with absolute terror.

"SHARPTOOTH!" she screamed.

Quickly, Littlefoot pushed Cera away as the monster closed in on them, stomping slowly through the water. The growls of the creature, followed by the snarling and snapping of jaws caused the two of them to make a mad dash for safety. They barely managed to dodge an incoming foot as he tried to stomp on them, the water splashing against their skin. As they ran for their lives, Littlefoot finally managed to spot a bunch of huge black brambles and thorns. He nudged Cera in the side and they dashed toward it.

Sharptooth snarled with impatience, revealing sharp yellow teeth as he continued to pursue them. The moment they hid themselves amongst the thorns, he lost sight of them. He growled angrily to himself, searching for his prey. He was not about to let his chase go to waste. He needed the food and he needed it now.

The two children shivered as they pushed deeper into the brambles, trying to use their environment to their advantage. With the thorns creating a barricade between themselves and Sharptooth, they were safe for the moment until help arrived.

But the relief would not last as Sharptooth deliberately pushed his snout through the brambles, eager to reach for them, but a thick branch stopped him from getting any closer. Littlefoot and Cera ducked down as low as they could and he pulled his teeth back in frustration, snorting his hot stinky breath on them. He pulled his head back to find another way to reach his targets.

Seizing the opportunity, Littlefoot nudged Cera. "Go!" he commanded quietly and they snuck away as quietly as they could. After a few minutes, they came to a crossroad. The one to the left was brighter and more exposed, but the one to the left was darker and thicker than the rest of the brambles. Littlefoot inched toward the right side, but Cera stubbornly moved to the left. "This way," he urged impatiently.

Cera made a sour face and shook her head defiantly. She leapt forward and ran to the left.

"Come back, Cera!" Littlefoot shouted. "You're going the wrong way!"

But Cera ignored his warning and Littlefoot was forced to give chase. To his utter fear, the increased stomping of the two-footed predator immediately told him that Sharptooth had heard them move. He ran even faster than before, trying desperately to keep up with the threehorn.

Sharptooth spotted them for a split second and he made a leap forward, his jaws open wide to make a grab for the fleeing longneck. The moment his snout pierced through the brambles, he became entangled and his snout was stopped dead in its tracks, held back by a strong branch. But the hatchling longneck had also became ensnared by the thorny branches as well, holding him in place firmly. Terrified, he struggled and pulled even harder to try and get away from the behemoth, but the brambles on Sharptooth was loosening as well and it would not be long before he had him in his jaws.

With more determination than ever, Littlefoot mustered all the strength he could and pulled even harder. Suddenly, the branch that had been holding snapped back and came loose. The release of the tension was so great, that the backlash resulted in a huge black thorn stabbing itself directly into Sharptooth's right eye.

Sharptooth pulled his head back and howled in agony. White hot pain burned through his head as his tears mixed with his own blood, causing it to sting even more. Using a claw, he scratched the thorn out and blood seeped onto his hand, staining it dark red. He shook his head to clear some of the blood away, but the damage had been done and he was forced to close it shut.

He opened his mouth and roared with fury just as the two hatchlings raced out from under the safety of the brambles. He spotted them with his one good eye and his rage burned deeply. They would pay dearly for what they had done to him!

He gathered his legs beneath him and jumped over the brambles, landing just a few feet from them, knocking them to the ground. He snarled in absolute hatred and moved in to finish his vengeance.

But before he had a chance, a long whip-like tail cut through the air and sent him hurtling backward. His head slammed into a rock, dazing him.

Littlefoot got to his feet and his eyes beamed with relief.

It was Whiplash!

The large longneck towered over him and Cera like a shining beacon of hope. He glanced over at Cera and nodded at her with utmost urgency. She seemed to understand the silent message and the two raced underneath their saviour. Now Whiplash stood between them and the furious monster.

Sharptooth shook his head to clear his dizziness, struggling to get back up on his feet. Whiplash took notice of this and widened his stance, his tail curled in preparation to strike if Sharptooth tried anything that would endanger his little brother and threehorn companion.

Roaring, Sharptooth managed to recover enough and he charged directly for the longneck. How dare he get in the way of his vendetta! He leapt in front of him and tried to make a snap for his vulnerable neck. But Whiplash was ready, and he stepped backward on his hind legs, with Sharptooth's jaws closing on thin air. Whiplash took the opportunity to pivot on his front legs and his thin tail whirled toward the blind spot of his enemy, but Sharptooth's keen sense of hearing picked up on sound and he ducked with ease. Whiplash turned his body again and his tail came back around to make up for the miss.

The blow from the counterattack was not what Sharptooth was expecting and it connected with the side of his head, sending him flying until his head was buried in dirt and rock. Whiplash cautiously walked up to the downed opponent, his cold yellow eyes watching for any signs of movement.

But there was none.

Whiplash's shoulders relaxed somewhat, but his guard was still up. He had heard stories of predators playing dead to make a final blow that their prey would never see coming. Still keeping his eye on Sharptooth, he addressed Littlefoot and Cera.

"Both of you, run!" Whiplash commanded.

"But Sharptooth is dead," Cera insisted pompously. "Besides, I don't take orders from a longneck!"

Forgetting the possibility that Sharptooth was playing dead, Whiplash's head snapped toward her and Cera flinched when she saw the seriousness in his expression. "I'm _not_ playing around, threehorn!" he snapped. "Creatures like these have a habit of playing dead, so I suggest that you listen to me for once in your short young life!"

He had taken his eyes off Sharptooth for a split second, and only for a second, but it was more than enough for the furious monster.

A split second was all he needed from the distracted longneck.

Sharptooth's eyes snapped open and he lifted a clawed foot, brutally kicking Whiplash in the side and his claws raked his soft underbelly.

In all the horror that Littlefoot had seen in one day, this… was the most horrifying.

Whiplash screamed with agony, blood oozing from three large slash marks on his right side. Quickly, Sharptooth got back to his feet and he charged, butting his head into Whiplash's chest. Winded from the blow Whiplash stumbled backward, completely unbalanced. And then, to Littlefoot's utter horror, Sharptooth whirled around, slapping his thick tail in the larger longneck's injured side. Sharptooth charged again, pushing him dangerously closer to a nearby ravine. Whiplash tried to regain his footing, but Sharptooth was quicker, pushing even harder. One of Whiplash's feet dangled over the edge, but it was more than enough for Sharptooth to make the finishing move.

He headbutted him in the chest again and Whiplash toppled over the edge.

"Whiplash!" Littlefoot screamed in terror, but it was too late, Whiplash had disappeared, and all he could hear was the deafening bellows of helpless terror from his brother. "NO!"

"We've got to get out of here!" Cera shouted, just as Sharptooth turned to see them bolting. Saliva dripped from his bloody fangs and he leapt toward them with unnatural speed. He landed right behind them, knocking them off their feet. Snarling with anger and vengeance, he prepared to take them both into his mouth. Screaming, Littlefoot curled into a tight ball, waiting for the end.

But it never came.

An all too familiar roar of fury rang in his ears and an enormous shadow loomed over them, followed by a powerful shockwave and the crumbling of rocks. He looked up in time to see his mother bearing down over him and Cera, glaring at Sharptooth while she stood over them protectively. Her tail curled back around and her stance became wider.

"Mother!" he cried, relieved. He and Cera dashed beneath his mother's legs as she continued to glare at Sharptooth. "Mother, Whiplash, he's…" he tried to say as tears threatened to fall, but the words were lost as Sharptooth got back on his feet again after constantly bashing his head against the rock formation. He snarled in anger and charged murderously at the female longneck.

Quickly, she pushed her son and Cera away urgently. "Run! Run!" she ordered.

"Mother, Whiplash is gone!" Littlefoot shouted over the thundering footsteps of Sharptooth.

Despite the shock of the news reaching her ears, his mother was forced to block it all out as Sharptooth leapt in front of her and tried to bite at her forelegs. Immediately she reared up on her back legs, dodging his snapping jaws. She came back down on all four feet, but Sharptooth took a simple step back from the incoming blow. The ground shook violently, but she would not be so easily deterred as her neck swung down upon the biter with the force of a speeding truck. Sharptooth flew backward and slammed into a rock with a crash, rocks pelting down on his thick hide. He shook his head to clear some of the dust away and roared in anger.

Quickly, she ushered the children away in an urgent manner, trying to keep them away from her feet and putting herself between her son and Sharptooth. Angered at the retreating enemy and determined to not let his prey get away, Sharptooth roared again and leapt high into the air. Littlefoot and Cera watched in horror as the monster dug his thick claws deeply into his mother's back and sunk his bloody fangs into her spine, eager to cause as much pain to her as he wanted.

The mother longneck screamed and bellowed with agony as Sharptooth dug his teeth deeper and deeper into her flesh, snapping and biting while she thrashed wildly to dislodge him from her back. With a vicious shake of his head, he tore a huge chunk of flesh from her back and released his hold on her. Despite the blood dripping dangerously from the open wound, she kept on running with Littlefoot and Cera just beneath her feet. Littlefoot looked back in time to see Sharptooth throw his head back and swallow the flesh whole before he came back again. He charged right at his mother's legs, now more determined than ever to cease the two hatchlings in his jaws.

Sensing the approaching danger, the mother just barely managed to keep her back legs away from his sharp teeth and they snapped at thin air, missing them by a mere inch. Before Sharptooth even realised what was happening, as he attempted to make a grab for the children again, a blow from the thick tail of the protective mother longneck slammed into his face and sent him hurtling down a rocky slope. He skidded and slid down until he came to a halt at the bottom.

All the while, the three leaf eaters kept on running to safety, but the damage to Littlefoot's mother had been done. As she staggered with the children just a few feet in front of her, Littlefoot tearfully looked back as he realised they were getting further and further away from where Whiplash had fallen.

"Mother, what about Whiplash!" he urged, but she did not pay him any heed. Right now, her mind was far more focused on getting her son and the threehorn to safety as quickly as she could, despite her horrible injuries. The moment they stopped to catch their breath, the battle with Sharptooth was soon forgotten as a new and far more powerful danger began beneath their feet.

The ground started to tremble, shaking until it grew stronger and stronger until it started to split the ground in half. Confused, Littlefoot and Cera peered at the crack, but it soon turned to rear fear as the earth beneath them suddenly rose up and tossed them to the ground, separating them from the elder longneck.

"Littlefoot!" his mother shouted with alarm.

She stretched her neck as far as it would let her, but she was too far away, and the threat of the earth-shaking land grew stronger than before. In that moment, she collapsed, weakened from the loss of blood that Sharptooth had inflicted upon her, and completely unbalanced by the increasing destructive power of the earthshake.

Littlefoot could only watch in horror as he became further separated from his mother. There was no way he and Cera were going to reach her without her aid. A roar from behind him and Cera forced them to look over their shoulders and their eyes widened in fear.

Sharptooth was back up on his feet again, but he was no longer focused on the hatchlings. Instead, in his haste to escape the danger of the earthshake, he had no idea he was making his way toward them. His feet pounded the ground heavily as he raced to safety, but unbeknownst to him, his feet had picked up a pair of passengers and they were forced to ride along. Littlefoot and Cera clutched each other tightly, trying to hold onto the fast moving two-footed predator.

Sharptooth stopped near the edge of a cliff, his broad red eyes glancing around fearfully. But by stopping, he had created a chain reaction. Littlefoot and Cera looked down and saw that one of his feet had stopped on a crack. Suddenly, steam erupted from the ground below, burning his foot and he roared in agony. As he staggered backwards as the ground beneath them continued to rise from the ongoing shaking, Littlefoot and Cera fell off and found themselves sliding down to the edge.

Quickly Littlefoot dug his paws into the ground to try and slow himself down, only to find himself stopped by a rock, but the moment of relief was short-lived as Cera slid into him, breaking the rock. The shaking continued to grow and Sharptooth lost his balance, sliding onward until his tail caught itself between the children's legs. They tried to cry for help as Sharptooth could no longer prevent himself from continuing down to the gorge below.

"Mother!" Littlefoot cried as tears of fear fell down his eyes, hoping that she still had the strength to hear him.

Unable to hold on any longer, the threehorn and longneck bolted up Sharptooth's back and over his head, trying desperately to get back to the ledge. But Sharptooth was not so easily deterred and if he was going to die, he was going to take the children with him. He opened his mouth wide as they lost their grip and fell.

THWAMP!

An enormous tail slammed into Sharptooth's face and he plummeted to his doom.

Littlefoot and Cera began to fall as well, but something managed to grab hold of their tails and they looked up to see Littlefoot's mother lifting them to safety. Gently she set the two of them back down onto the ground and she began to nudge Littlefoot away to safety and back toward his waiting grandmother and grandfather.

Only the terrified screams from Cera caused Littlefoot to look back, but his mother kept on pushing him onward, determined to keep her son safe. They ran onward until they finally neared the two concerned elders, but before Littlefoot knew what was happening, his grandparents suddenly shot up into the air.

As he tumbled down a rocky slope, completely separated from his family, the last thing he heard was the cracking of the world splitting in half and the bellows of fear and agony from dinosaurs of many kinds. He skidded to a halt, slamming his head against something solid, pain erupted in his head and his whole world went dark.


	5. To Heal A Broken Heart

**I did my absolute best to make this as emotional as I could. I in no way wanted to stain it.**

 **Originally this was going to be a two part chapter, but I changed my mind.**

* * *

 **Brothers Under the Bright Circle**

* * *

 **Chapter 5:**

 **To Heal A Broken Heart**

* * *

Sky water poured relentlessly upon the land below as an ominous shadow enveloped it, but there was no sign of the Night Circle. Hidden behind the clouds, it made it almost impossible to see. If a biter had passed by a steep ravine, it would have even noticed the large unconscious longneck lying motionlessly amongst the rubble and dirt. The first thing Whiplash became aware of was the almost unbearable stinging sensation where Sharptooth's clawed feet had cut into his side. He lifted his head, groaning in pain from the ache in his head, but he shook it off. He turned his neck and saw where the rakes on his side were, and the blood being washed away by the sky water.

Stiffly, he got up to his feet and glanced around his surroundings. It took him a moment to realise that it was completely dark and his whole world had been turned upside down by some unknown force of nature. Slowly his memories came back to him and he recalled how he had protected Littlefoot and Cera as best as he could, but the two-footed carnivore had done something to him and had knocked him out. Judging from the darkness and the pouring sky water, he knew that he had been knocked out for quite a long time, but he was not sure how long.

He glanced up from where he had fallen and all he saw was rocks and what appeared to be an enormous cliff towering high above him in the far-off distance. From what he remembered from his lessons about earthshakes, they had an infamous reputation of changing the landscape, but this one had been a lot different from what he had experienced in the past. A deep crack unlike anything he had seen before stretched out before him like the deep scratches on his side. He hoped that they would heal and not leave any scars like the one on his cheek. The last thing he wanted was to be a scarred youngster.

Then he jolted as if he had been hit by a bolt of sky fire. Despite his aches and pains, he knew that he could not worry about his troubles. Where was Littlefoot? Had he found his mother? Had they managed to escape the danger of the earthshake? Were they safe? Hastily, he scrambled to the edge of the ravine and hoisted himself up with all the strength he had left. Nothing was more important to him than the safety of Littlefoot and his mother. If they had somehow managed to escape Sharptooth's jaws unscathed, it would be an absolute miracle.

"You better be alive, you two," he muttered to himself as he struggled to climb up, "just… please be alive."

When he finally reached the top, his eyes widened. The landscape had changed worse than he thought. There was not a sign of life anywhere, not even a barren tree nor a ground crawler. It was completely devoid of everything.

Disheartened, Whiplash lowered his head slightly, mourning for the lives that were lost to this terrible disaster. Now it seemed that finding Littlefoot or his mother alive would just be a sliver of a chance, but there was a small part of him that hoped that they were alright and safe. The last he recalled as he toppled over the edge, Littlefoot and Cera had gone where he had last seen the herd.

"That would mean," he pondered to himself, "that they went that way."

He turned his head slightly toward the right of his position and began his search. As he walked, the wide ravine near the edge of the cliff seemed to have widened further than he had anticipated, and the other side stood higher than him. He wasn't sure how far it was, but he figured it was more than at least five of his full lengths, perhaps more.

The sky water continued to pour until he realised he was soaked to the bone, and the stinging on his side grew worse. But if he pushed onward, not willing to let a few measly scratches stop him from finding his family. His other family, he corrected himself. He shook his head as he neared the widest part of the gap, and he thought he caught a glimpse of a lone longneck in the distance, but he knew that it was not Littlefoot's mother nor one of their grandparents.

Whoever it was, he didn't even really care, his goal had been set. He had to find Littlefoot and his mother quickly or else he'd lose whatever sliver of hope he had left. He carefully lowered his head to the ground, trying to find any tracks in the mud that the sky water was trying to wash away. He thought he saw the prints of a hatchling threehorn going in the opposite direction, but she was not of his concern.

He had been so focused on the tracks, and the wind was howling so strongly, that he almost missed a familiar voice calling for…

"Littlefoot!" he gasped, and he bolted toward the voice as fast as he could.

With his long legs, his stride allowed him to cover the distance to get to Littlefoot quickly, but he never anticipated what was waiting for him near a hill of rocks and boulders. As the sky fire flashed briefly, he caught the sight of an all too familiar body of an adult female longneck. His eyes widened. The longneck was lying almost motionlessly on a crest of rocks, and as she struggled to get up, the rocks crumbled beneath her weight.

It was at that moment that he spotted a tiny young longneck heading toward her.

"No…" he whispered as he carefully made his way down the slope. He didn't know how, but… he almost knew what was happening and as he drew closer, his heart immediately sunk like a rock in his chest. It became heavier and heavier until he stood a few feet behind Littlefoot.

As if she sensed his presence, the mother longneck lifted her head up slowly and smiled sadly.

Littlefoot whipped around and saw the familiar silhouette of Whiplash in the darkness. "W-Whiplash?" he sobbed. At the nod of his elder brother, he got up quickly and raced over to his leg, pressing his face into his skin. Whiplash lowered his neck and wrapped his head around the trembling child, trying to ease whatever worries he had on his mind. "Y-you're alive. I thought… I thought Sharptooth had…"

"I'm alive, Littlefoot," Whiplash confirmed, but his eyes never left the dying mother. "That is all that matters. What happened?" He edged a little closer, but then stepped back when he saw the deep bite mark. "Did Sharptooth do this to you?!" His eyes twisted into a deep frown and his lips pulled back in anger.

"Mother sent him over the edge," Littlefoot hastily explained.

"It…" she wheezed, "it matters no more… What matters to me… is that you're both safe."

"What are you saying, mother?" Littlefoot cried, turning back to her. He pressed his nose into hers, tears soaking his cheeks and mixing with the sky water. "You're going to be fine, you're staying with us." His choked sobs only pained Whiplash more.

Her violet eyes left her son and focused on Whiplash. "Whiplash," she sighed weakly.

He lowered his head closer to her trembling lips, knowing deep down in his heart she had something important to say. He did not need to ask her what she wanted to say, he knew… he just knew.

"Promise me," she said, "promise me that… you will… look after Littlefoot. Take him… take him to the Great Valley… promise me… that you will protect him…"

Tears began to form in Whiplash's eyes, but the sky water washed them away just as quickly as they came. He gently pressed his snout to her forehead, stroking it as softly as he could. "I promise, mother…" he whispered softly in her ears, "I promise I will watch over him until my last breath."

"That is… all I can ever ask of you."

Whiplash pulled his head back as Littlefoot approached his mother and she turned to him, her strength was fading fast, she did not have much time left.

"My dear sweet Littlefoot… I wish… I could make the rest of the journey with you…"

Littlefoot began to sniff louder and he pressed his face deeper into the folds of her skin just like before when he had been a small newborn hatchling.

"But… I want to remember one thing: I will always be with you… even if you cannot see me. Let your heart guide you… it whispers… so listen closely…"

Slowly, she drew her last breath, and the mother of Littlefoot and the daughter of his grandparents passed on to another world. Whiplash lowered his head in a silent moment, and his voice spoke softly as he prayed, "May your journey to Sauro's Paradise be a peaceful one, Mother."

He opened his eyes as the sky water continued to pour heavily and he looked up at the heavens briefly before he returned his focus to the still sobbing Littlefoot. If they didn't move now, then there was a chance that they wouldn't just get sick from the storm but the possibility of predators was never too far from the back of his mind.

He had no other choice.

He lowered his head and picked Littlefoot up by the tail.

"What are you doing?!" Littlefoot yelled. "Mother's still alive! We have to go back for her!"

But Whiplash did not even answer, despite the frantic kicking and yelling at his face he turned and carefully walked back up the rocky slope.

And not once did he look back at the broken body of the very longneck who had shown him compassion in his time of great sorrow. There would never be another longneck like her.

As the sky water continued to pour on the land below, he moved further and further away from the body of Littlefoot's mother until she had disappeared into the darkness. By the time they reached the top of the hill, Littlefoot had given up on his attempt to get away from his elder brother, knowing that it was pointless to even fight against him. Instead, he hung like a dead weight and his sobbing continued to worsen.

Whiplash did not blame him for acting like this, but he had to find shelter quickly or else they would either freeze to death or catch a sickness.

When he got to the top of the hill, the elder longneck glanced around for any signs of shelter, like a cave that was big enough for him to fit in. Unfortunately, he knew that it would be a very slim chance of that even happening, and when the sky fire cast its eerie glow he spotted a cave that was big enough to fit his head inside, he trotted over to it.

He gently set Littlefoot on the ground and pushed him inside with his snout, much to Littlefoot's protests.

"Just get inside and stay there for the time being," he commanded, but his tone was not unkind.

For the first time in his young long life, Littlefoot realised that Whiplash was being sincere and not showing his usual stoicism. Whimpering, he did as he was told, crawling deeper inside the cave until he was completely enveloped in darkness. The sky fire only briefly illuminated the walls of the cavern and he could see that it was wide enough for Whiplash to fit his head inside if he wanted. Once he was inside, Whiplash laid down and snaked his long neck inside, but he only let it go halfway in to give Littlefoot some space.

When he got a look inside, he saw Littlefoot curled up in a ball and shaking uncontrollably.

Whiplash opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out and he mentally cursed himself for his foolishness. Littlefoot was just a child who had just lost a mother he had known his entire young life. He, on the other paw, had seen death countless times and done his absolute best to put a wall around his heart to shield himself from the grief. He had only known Littlefoot's mother for the same amount, but his grief was nothing compared to this child's own. Littlefoot was separated from his grandparents and his mother was dead. All he had left was a stranger he had called brother his entire life.

They were basically strangers in the dark.

He sighed softly and rested his head nearby. How could he say sorry for this child's loss? It would be like trying to convince an adult that it was something to get over with in the natural world.

There was nothing he could do but wait and give Littlefoot some space. It was the kindest thing he could offer him for the time being until the storm went away, but eventually they would have to move further away from this place. If they didn't leave soon, they would surely starve and he would not allow Littlefoot's grief take control of his survival instincts. Without his family to help teach him the ways of the world, Whiplash knew that it was up to him to pick up where they left off. After all, he had survived the wilderness long before he even met this small band of longnecks, and it seemed only fair that he do what they could not.

"AH!"

Whiplash's head shot up in an instant and he was immediately placing his head and neck between whatever had frightened him. He felt him trembling as the terrified child clung to him for dear life. Whiplash glared icy cold daggers at whatever had frightened him, but he found himself pulling back when he saw what caused Littlefoot to scream.

A dark green pebbly belly crawling creature emerged from the shadows and shot a cold stare at the two, his pale brown eyebrows twisted in displeasure at having been disturbed from his sleep. "What's going on here?" he demanded.

Whiplash emitted a growl from his throat, causing the creature to stare up at him with surprise.

"Leave him alone," the bigger longneck warned. "Can't you see that you're scaring him?"

The creature snorted as Littlefoot trembled tearfully. "What's your problem? He's not even hurt."

"What do you know about hurt?" Whiplash demanded.

"It's all her fault," Littlefoot sobbed. "She should have known better…"

"All who's fault?" the creature asked gruffly.

"Mother's!" Littlefoot cried, burying his face into the thick folds of Whiplash's neck. Whiplash turned his head and pulled him closer to offer whatever comfort he could, all the while shielding him from view. The other dinosaur's eyes immediately softened when he heard this and he looked down at the ground. Whiplash continued to glare at him, attempting to make him look at him to show how serious he was about the situation.

"A predator named Sharptooth attacked us," he explained a little harshly, "I tried to protect him and a hatchling threehorn, but I thought I knocked him out cold. I was wrong and Sharptooth kicked me down the slope, knocking me out cold. Littlefoot's mother… she died protecting him when I could have done better to prevent her…"

The dinosaur's eyes softened when he heard the story, "Oh, I see…" he muttered, "I see…"

"If I hadn't wandered so far from home," Littlefoot whimpered, "mother would still be…"

Whiplash turned his gaze to him and his eyes softened somewhat. "No," he said, shaking his head as he tried to hide his own falling tears, "it's my fault for not paying attention to Sharptooth when I knocked him down. If I hadn't been so focused on ensuring you and the threehorn got away…"

"Hush now," the elder dinosaur said gently and the two looked over him, surprised, "it is none of your faults, nor is it your mother's. Now, you two pay attention to old Rooter."

Littlefoot watched him curiously despite the continuing fall of his tears, and Whiplash eyed the elder with a small hint of suspicion and protectiveness.

"It is nobody's fault," Rooter continued, addressing Littlefoot, "the Great Circle of Life has begun. But you see… not all of us arrive together at the end."

"But what'll I do?" Littlefoot choked. "I… I miss her so much."

"And you'll always miss her," Rooter told him kindly, "but she'll always be with you as long as you remember the things she taught you. In a way… you'll never be apart, for you are still apart of each other."

Despite the heartbreak Littlefoot had experienced with the death of his mother, Rooter's kind words of comfort seemed to mend it only slightly. It was never completely whole, but it was enough to give the child a small sliver of hope. Whiplash wished he could do more but mending it would take many years. It would be a subject he would be sensitive for possibly the rest of his life.

 _Time heals most wounds,_ he thought sadly as he looked over at him from the corner of his eye, _but not all._

"My tummy hurts," Littlefoot suddenly moaned.

Rooter sighed, "Well, that too will go in time, Littlefoot. Only in time."

His eyes then rested on Whiplash, who was continuing to watch his little brother like a guardian sent down from the heavens above. "As for you," he said, snapping Whiplash to attention, "you are quite strange looking for a longneck."

Whiplash frowned. "Does it matter?" he asked coldly.

"Hmph," Rooter huffed, "I've seen one part of your kind of longneck, but they came from a far away land. But, however, you are different from them."

Whiplash turned his head away, not wanting to make eye contact with Rooter. "My father is from one part of the far away land. My mother… I barely remember her at all. The one thing I remember was being beside my father's feet as we came to the herd."

He hoped for Littlefoot's sake that he was far too tired to be paying attention to the conversation.

Rooter seemed to sense how sensitive the longneck's past was to him. He nodded sympathetically. "The herd has very strict laws, there is no need to say more, my son. I understand why you do not talk about it." His eyes rested on Littlefoot for a moment before they returned to Whiplash. "If you must protect him from the harshness from the world, then so be it. But," his tone dropped to a sliver of seriousness, "do not let it get in the way of doing what you think is right. Someday he will grow up, do not keep the truth away from your loved ones forever. The past will always come back to haunt you."

At those words, Whiplash felt himself shiver, but it was not from the coldness of the wind and sky water outside.

Without speaking another word, Rooter got up on his feet and shuffled outside, easily bypassing Whiplash's neck and out into the ongoing storm, leaving the two alone once more.

With Rooter gone, there was more space for Littlefoot to move around and he sunk to the floor, ignoring the gnawing hunger in the pit of his stomach. Whiplash gently pulled away until his head was outside. He wanted to give Littlefoot some space, so he turned his head to the sky and allowed the sky water to once again drench him to the bone. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make for Littlefoot's own sake.

He tucked his legs underneath his chest and curled his tail around his side. It would be a long time before the sky water stopped, so it didn't really bother him much. He gently laid his head down, keeping it close to the entrance of the cave so that Littlefoot could see that he was there.

Slowly, Whiplash drifted off to restless sleep, his mind troubled by today's events.


	6. The Long Road Awaiting

**Apologies for the long wait guys, had to sort some stuff out as well as getting the next chapter written out. It was really difficult, but this one was finished a long while ago. Talk about a pain in the ass.  
**

 **Please enjoy!**

* * *

 **Brothers Under the Bright Circle**

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

 **The Long Road Awaiting**

* * *

Dawn crept across the devastated land, already the Bright Circle's scorching heat was warming the ground. As it peeked over the horizon, it shone until it forced Whiplash's eyes open. He groaned as he lifted his head from the ground, blinking some of the sleep from his eyes and yawned loudly. He found himself glaring at the Bright Circle's desire to wake him up so early, but he knew it was pointless to start blaming nature for doing what it did. How could he?

Stretching his legs, he heaved himself up from his resting spot and took the time to scan his surroundings. From what he could see, the land was completely different from what he remembered. Then again, it had changed a lot from yesterday's earthshake, and his stomach dropped like a stone when he recalled how he missed it after being knocked unconscious. The body of Littlefoot's mother had been put far behind them, and he could see the ravine that had been slashed into the earth like an open wound (he flinched from the stinging of the rakes on his injured side) toward the east. Down below it was where they had left her… He shook his head, determined to keep the memories at bay as best as he could. Toward the west, the land was open and barren, empty of life. That was the way he and Littlefoot had to go if he remembered correctly, but as far as memory goes, he was bad at it.

With him and Littlefoot alone without the protection of other longnecks, he knew it was up to him to protect them both, even if it killed him. His sole priority was the safety of his little brother, no matter what the cost was. He recalled last night's promise and he tightened his muscles with determination, his tail raising itself a little to twitch at the tip.

As far as he was concerned, he was ready.

But, unfortunately, nature had to call because he soon felt his stomach growl in hunger and thirst. Stars, he hadn't eaten since the day before yesterday and he mumbled his annoyance at forgetting his daily needs. He supposed Littlefoot was also hungry, and thirsty, given the situation at hand.

It was time to move on, and fast.

He bent his head down to see if Littlefoot was awake, but he stopped short.

Littlefoot was gone.

Alarmed, he lifted his head and searched frantically, hoping to find a sign.

How long had he been gone?

When did he sneak out?

How did he not notice him leaving?

Whiplash cursed himself for lowering his guard. He was supposed to be watching out for him!

Something caught his eye on the ground and he looked down.

Tiny longneck tracks were coming down from the entrance to the cave and heading downhill.

He held his breath.

Anxiously, he trotted forward. The tracks were leading him toward the desert, moving slowly but still fast enough to get a distance between them and the cave.

Eventually, Whiplash crested over a sandy dune, and his heart sunk at what he saw.

There was Littlefoot, curled up in the footprint of a longneck and whimpering. Dried tear streaks stained his youthful face and Whiplash felt nothing but terrible. His heart had never sunk so low at the pitiful sight of his little brother.

Despite Rooter's kind words of encouragement, Littlefoot's mind was still traumatised from the loss of his mother. It had never occurred to Whiplash just how emotionally distressed he was, and he waited patiently. However, his mind continued to wrestle with heart, tugging him in a different direction.

As painful as it was to see Littlefoot like this, and as much as he wanted to give the child some more time, it would do them no good if they stayed any longer.

He sighed regrettably, slumping his shoulders as he made his decision.

He calmly moved over toward him.

The moment Littlefoot heard the familiar tremors of an approaching figure, he knew that it was pointless to stay. He slowly picked himself up and numbly crawled out, sniffing. He stopped to look back at the dried spots his tears had left behind, but already the sand was claiming them. He hung his head and approached Whiplash.

"Littlefoot," Whiplash said, relieved, bending his neck down to his level, "are you alright?"

Littlefoot glanced up at him, surprised. When he looked into Whiplash's yellow eyes, he almost expected him to have no trace of emotion, but all he saw was relief, concern, and… something else? He wasn't sure what else he detected, but he jumped back when Whiplash gently wrapped his head around his back.

"I…" he tried to say, but no words came.

Whiplash watched him closely, waiting patiently for him to speak.

"I miss her," Littlefoot managed to say. "I miss her so much."

He gasped when Whiplash used his head to bring him over to one of his forelegs, forcing him to wrap his paws around it. What was he doing? When he didn't pull away, it took him a minute to realise that Whiplash was hugging him in the best way that he could.

"I miss her too, Littlefoot," Whiplash whispered, although his voice was once again calm but Littlefoot was sure he was trying to hide his own grief. "I should have been there to help her fight Sharptooth."

Littlefoot gently stroked his grey-brown leg comfortingly. "You don't have to be sorry, Whiplash," he said.

Whiplash held him for a little moment longer, but in the end, life had to move on. The urgency to find resources had never been so strong. "As much as it hurts to stay and not leave her, but we really can't, Littlefoot," he explained. "She wanted us to keep going, for your sake."

Littlefoot nodded, using a paw to wipe away his tears.

Whiplash released his hold on him.

"Do you remember the way to the Great Valley?" Whiplash asked.

Littlefoot shook his head dejectedly, his face twisting into a frown. "No… I don't remember…"

" _Littlefoot."_

Suddenly, the ground around the two of them seemed to brighten and a shadow shaped like a star twirled, becoming smaller as it came down. Both Littlefoot and Whiplash looked up to see what appeared to be a green object. Their eyes suddenly became bigger when they realised that it was a treestar descending down from the heavens.

Shocked, Littlefoot stepped back from Whiplash as the treestar came down toward the footprint he had been in just moments ago. It landed softly in the middle and the two peered down into it, watching as the water inside collected together until Littlefoot could see his own reflection looking back at him.

" _Dear Littlefoot,"_ a familiar voice seemed to speak to him and he jumped with surprise, _"do you remember the way to the Great Valley?"_

He shook his head.

" _Follow the Bright Circle, past the Great Rock that looks like a longneck, and past the Mountains That Burn,"_ the voice instructed. Littlefoot nodded as it continued, _"I'll be in your heart, Littlefoot. Let your heart guide you."_

Struggling to hold back his tears, Littlefoot picked the treestar up in his mouth and carefully laid it on his back. When he looked up, he saw Whiplash looking down at him, his eyes glistened somewhat before he blinked again.

"I'm ready whenever you are, little brother," he told him with a hint of a smile forming at the corner of his lips.

Nodding, Littlefoot trotted forward with Whiplash following close behind. Together, the two headed west where the Bright Circle would fall. Eventually, they came to the edge of the ravine that continued to bear itself to them. Whiplash looked down at it with disdain and his tail twitched. Littlefoot wasn't too bothered by it, but the memories of yesterday continued to plague his mind. Even though he slept that night while Whiplash guarded him, his sleep stories troubled him.

They kept showing the fight between his mother and Sharptooth, always bloody and brutal. But what haunted him the most was the story eventually switching over to Sharptooth then turning to Whiplash and kicking him off the cliff without hesitation and a desire to kill written all over his tooth-faced maw. Then he had turned to Littlefoot and he killed him right there and then with no one to save him, not even his grandparents.

Whiplash took note on Littlefoot's shivering and he became concerned for his mental health. He wasn't sure what Sharptooth had done to traumatise him when he had been unconscious, but he was certain that the attack on his mother had been anything but pretty to look at.

He decided to do something to keep his mind from wandering, so he spoke to quench the silence. "It looks like we won't be going this way," he explained, motioning to the ravine with his tail, "it's far too deep."

Littlefoot nodded. "Yeah, I'm not very good at climbing," he said gloomily.

"Honestly," said Whiplash, "I think I'm too fat to climb. I'd only make the situation worse."

"Did you just make a joke?" Littlefoot asked, his eyes wide.

Whiplash winked. "I might have."

The wink was barely noticeable from his height, but Littlefoot was certain that he had caught a flicker of his eyes. He frowned. He had never known Whiplash to be a casual joker. He was always serious and very rarely spoke unless he had something important to say, or if the situation was important.

As if he sensed his confusion, Whiplash lowered his neck to his level, his eyes glinting with mirth. "Just because I'm serious, little brother," he told him, "doesn't mean I can't have a little fun."

"That is true," Littlefoot hesitantly agreed.

Whiplash raised his neck and looked at the ravine again, frowning thoughtfully. "Seeing as how this way is barred to us," he said, "we might as well keep moving. Our priority is survival, first and foremost."

Littlefoot tilted his head. "Mother said that you came to our herd before I hatched," he explained. "You know a lot about this."

It wasn't a question, but Whiplash knew that Littlefoot wanted to know about his past, and when Littlefoot saw the frown appear on his face he immediately regretted the topic change. "Sorry," he said hastily, "I didn't know you don't like to talk about."

Whiplash's face softened again. "It's alright, you didn't know. It's not something I… really like to talk about. My past…" His expression changed again, but Littlefoot was certain there was hurt in his eyes. "Listen, its something that is best to not be talked about. What happened to get me to come out here alone before I met your mother and grandparents and learn about survival was something beyond my control."

He shook his head, and the familiar wall of stoicism returned.

Littlefoot lowered his head, nodding. This was a topic that Whiplash did not want to talk about, and if he wanted to stay on his good side, the best idea was to not mention it nor even ask about it. Something happened to him to make him come out alone, something that'd hurt him in more ways than one.

"Come now," Whiplash spoke up, jolting him from his thoughts. The elder longneck was motioning with his head toward the west, urging him onward.

He was about to follow when he spotted a familiar yellow speck near the corner of his eye. His head turned to the right and Whiplash was forced to follow in the same direction. They watched with surprise when they saw a small yellow threehorn moving in frustration around the edge of the ravine.

"Holy stars, it's the threehorn," Whiplash gasped. "She's alive."

"Cera!" Littlefoot shouted, racing over to her as she drew closer.

Whiplash did not budge, but he watched with caution.

When Cera saw the longneck hatchling running toward her, her race twisted to annoyance. While she wasn't at all pleased to see Littlefoot again, she was even less thrilled when she saw Whiplash standing nearby, watching with an equally annoyed look on his face.

"What do you want?" she demanded, her nose horn less than an inch from Littlefoot's neck when he got too close.

"Uh, nothing," Littlefoot said nervously, stepping back to give her space. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to find my OWN kind," Cera grunted, sticking her nose in the air pompously, "they're on the other side."

Littlefoot glanced back at Whiplash for any help to convince her, but he was puzzled to see him still standing where he had left him, watching with the same expression as before.

"Well, we've looked all over here," Littlefoot explained to Cera, but he stepped back out of her way as she shoved past him to peer down at the edge, "you can't climb up on the other side."

"Maybe YOU longnecks can't!" Cera snapped.

Before Littlefoot had a chance to stop her, she climbed down onto a ledge less than a foot down from where they were standing. Down below was a steep slope that rolled down to the lower ground level into darkness where the Bright Circle could not even reach.

"No, wait!" Littlefoot said quickly, stopping her. "We're going to the Great Valley, you could come with me and Whiplash. We could, uh… help each other!"

Cera turned her head to look over at the larger longneck, who was ambling up to them. For someone who was incredibly big, he certainly knew how to move very quietly without being noticed until he was almost on top of them. When he was closer to them, Whiplash's expression had changed from annoyed to almost unreadable.

"I am not keen on the idea of travelling with a threehorn, Littlefoot," he said, much to his younger brother's surprise. "It's quite obvious she doesn't want to either."

Littlefoot was speechless.

"Her father was the one that almost got you killed when you two tried to play together, if I remember correctly," Whiplash continued.

Littlefoot was dumbfounded.

While he knew Whiplash was protective, he didn't think he would go so far as to put Cera's kind down just by judging from the experience with her father. It had been quite obvious to Littlefoot that Cera's father had been just as protective as Whiplash had been on that day.

Cera sniffed.

"A threehorn does not need help from longnecks anyway!"

She once again stuck her horn in the air and proceeded to kick dirt in Littlefoot's face. Unfortunately, her act of defiance backfired on her and Whiplash watched with a small hint of satisfaction as she missed her footing. She slid down the steep slope, screaming into the dark ravine below. The two longneck brothers looked down, but they could barely make out her yellowish outline in the darkness.

"Well, at least we wouldn't be alone," Littlefoot called down to her.

Angered at the dent in her pride, Cera got back on her feet and scowled up at them, only to see a faint hint of a smirk on Whiplash's lips. "Well," she shouted up at them, "when I find my family, I won't BE alone! So, go away."

Without a glance over her shoulder, she stuck her tail in the air and marched rather proudly into the depths of the darkness, continuing her rambling about her kind being very dangerous and only travelling with other threehorns.

Littlefoot sighed and turned away, shaking his head. When he looked back at Whiplash, he was surprised to see him looking sympathetic. "Do not bother with her," he told him, "we're just far too different to be in each other's company."

Littlefoot nodded solemnly as the two continued onward, following the Bright Circle that had begun its journey toward the west. Now that it was clear that they would not be finding any means of meeting up with his grandparents, they would have to continue their journey on their own and hopefully meet them on the way or beat them to the Great Valley.

He soon found himself seeking shelter from the blistering heat underneath his older brother, but he was careful to not get in the way of his feet as they moved in almost perfect sync. Throughout the walk for most of the day, Littlefoot found himself drawn to trying to figure out why Whiplash was not forthcoming about his past.

What had he done to end up alone?

Did he have a family?

Did he have friends?

Why did he not like other dinosaurs that weren't longnecks?

All these questions continued to burn through his mind, but he never opened his mouth to ask out of fear that Whiplash would hate him.

They continued in silence until they came upon a clump of trees. Whiplash lifted his head to sniff the air for any scent. He smelt dried and dead green food, almost completely inedible for Littlefoot, but it would have to suffice for the time being. He also picked up faint traces of water, which meant that where there was food there was water. He couldn't smell anything else of interest, and he doubted he would be able to pick up any predator scents anyway. They, however, would smell him from a mile away if they were hunting.

He glanced at Littlefoot, who was gasping from exhaustion, hunger and dehydration.

"There's food, shelter, and water in those trees," he reported, causing Littlefoot to look up with surprise and hope. "I don't know if you'll enjoy the food, but its better than nothing. I recommend we stop there and rest for the night to get our strength back before we continue onward."

Littlefoot nodded in agreement as they reached the oasis, although he wouldn't even call it an oasis.

When they came to the tree line he was quite disappointed, despite Whiplash's warnings about the brown food being distasteful, but he didn't complain and ate and drank what he could. The brown leaves were very bad tasting and he tried very hard to not make disgusted faces.

Fortunately for him, Whiplash was having the same problems. The food he stripped from the highest branches were just as dull tasting as the ones lower to the ground. Like Littlefoot, he was trying very hard to not show how he was finding the taste unpleasant.

"It's better than nothing," Littlefoot grumbled, once he had finished his fill.

"It's the best that we can do until we find something better," Whiplash sighed. He turned to the pond and stuck his head beneath its surface, hoping to find something edible. Much to his disappointment, the water green food was just as disgusting. He squinted his face when the taste rolled on his tongue.

"Although," he said as he swallowed the food, shivering, "I've eaten worse."

Littlefoot looked up at him as he walked over to the edge of the pool. He laid down, keeping his treestar on his back, and crossed his forepaws together. He watched Whiplash with interest. "What was the worst you've eaten?" he asked.

Whiplash paused for a moment, trying to think of the best way he could describe it without going too deeply. "Well, it was… an oasis just like this one, but there was virtually nothing green let alone a single tree growing. They were completely barren. Anyway, when I put my head down into the water to drink, I ended up with a mouthful of water greens, only these ones were really… bad, like rotten to the core bad. The taste was so horrible that I had to use the dirt to wash my tongue off."

Littlefoot's eyes widened. "You used dirt to clean your tongue?!"

Whiplash nodded, grinning good naturedly. "It was better than using the water," he explained, shrugging. "The water was really bad too."

Littlefoot suddenly found himself bursting with laughter, it was a sound that Whiplash had not heard in a while and it made the elder longneck feel warmth in his chest.

He emitted a sigh and glanced up, taking note of the changing landscape. Once again, the Bright Circle was dipping behind the trees and the Night Circle was preparing to take its place. The two of them would have to spend the night here. It was better than wandering aimlessly in the dark without the safety of the trees hiding them from plain view.

Whiplash slowly laid down, tucking his forepaws beneath his chest. He was mindful where he was putting his tail near Littlefoot.

Littlefoot noticed this action and slowly crawled over to him until he was resting against Whiplash's flank where Sharptooth's claws had raked him. When his eyes rested upon the jagged marks, he flinched guiltily. He'd almost forgotten about them. As if sensing his change of mood, Whiplash turned his head to look at him, his eyes calm and his voice gentle.

"They'll fade in time, Littlefoot," he told him kindly. "From my experience with injuries like these, it will not scar."

At the mention of scars, Littlefoot's eyes turned to Whiplash's left cheek where the small scar sat beneath his eye. If those injuries wouldn't scar, how could such a tiny one like that one did? He didn't voice the question, but he was certain that Whiplash knew what he was thinking.

He did.

"I honestly don't know how this one did," he explained, his eyes frowning as he looked down at the scar. "But, let's just say… someone didn't like me to the point where it turned into hatred."

Littlefoot chewed his bottom lip and nodded respectfully. Again, he did not want to bring up the topic of Whiplash's past without seriously upsetting him.

Slowly, Whiplash curled his tail around until Littlefoot could barely see the outside world. If Whiplash remained curled and didn't move, he almost looked like a giant greyish brown boulder. He pointed this out to him and he grinned.

"You catch on quick," he chuckled, "this is exactly the intention. I'm keeping you hidden from the sight from sharp-teeth. It might not stop them from picking up my scent, but it might give them a second thought about attacking me if they only catch my scent. I'm not sure what kind of tactic it is, but it works if we don't want to be seen, especially if they're only using their sight rather than their sniffer."

"That makes sense," Littlefoot commented with a nod, his eyes becoming droopy with exhaustion and he yawned tiredly.

Whiplash nudged him affectionally with his snout. "Rest now," he whispered, "I'll keep watch."

Laying his head down, Littlefoot allowed sleep to overcome him now that he was aware of just how tired he was. He wasn't just physically exhausted, but his emotions had taken a heavy toll on him. While he missed his mother terribly, it didn't make the ache in his stomach go away like Rooter had said it would. How long would it even take? He said in good time, so why not now?

But he didn't have time to ponder the questions because eventually he was asleep.

For a long time, Whiplash scanned his surroundings, keeping an eye out for any potential threats that would pose a danger to him or Littlefoot. Once or twice, he thought he caught a glimpse of a fast biter moving in the bushes, but it was only a figment of his already tired imagination. But now that he was certain that there was no danger, he too prepared to go to sleep.

He was about to drift off to sleep when he was suddenly alerted when he felt movement against his still healing scratches, sending stinging waves running through his body.

He lifted his head with a start and glanced down next to his flank to check on his little brother. To his horror, Littlefoot was twitching and groaning in his sleep.

Littlefoot was having a bad sleep story!

Concerned, Whiplash gently bumped his snout against his little brother's back, trying to wake him.

When he didn't stir, Whiplash nudged a little harder, but not to cause any physical harm.

The rougher treatment seemed to have worked because Littlefoot's eyes shot open and he lifted his head, trembling and gasping as though he had been running for a long time without stopping.

"Shh, easy, Littlefoot," he cooed gently like a father to his uneasy hatchling.

The younger longneck hung his head sadly.

"What was the sleep story about?" Whiplash asked softly, although he knew the answer. "Perhaps I can help."

"Mother…" Littlefoot sighed, sniffing.

Ever so gently, Whiplash pressed his unscarred cheek against Littlefoot, rubbing him comfortingly.

"Thanks," he sighed, although it was not very sincere.

Instantly, Whiplash sensed that something was troubling his young mind, so he waited patiently for him to speak.

Finally, Littlefoot asked, "Have you… lost someone before?"

Silence hung in the air and Littlefoot immediately wanted to bite himself for asking about Whiplash's past again. He caught the bigger longneck turning his head toward the east where the Bright Circle rose in the sky, a seemingly far away look in his usually calm yellow eyes. It felt like a life time before Whiplash eventually looked back at him, his stoic expression now… downcast.

"I used to have a mother," he explained, his voice now filled with sadness, "but she passed away before I even hatched. My father took care of me, raising me and protecting me as best as he could until a kind herd of longnecks led by an elderly female took us both in. I never got a chance to meet my mother, but my father refused to tell me about her fate. All I knew was my father."

Littlefoot tilted his head curiously, but he stopped himself before he asked more.

Whiplash casted his gaze toward Night Circle that was now high in the sky, his eyes now wet with the hint of tears, but he blinked them before they could fall. He shook his head, trying to dismiss whatever memories were lingering in the back of his mind.

"It's late now, Littlefoot," he told him, switching the topic. "Try to get some sleep. You'll need all your strength for tomorrow's travel."

Nodding once more, Littlefoot began to drift off to sleep. He was glad Whiplash was kind enough to share something personal about his past life, but it still left him wondering why he was not with his family and herd. Whatever questioning thoughts he had, they all faded into the darkness of sleep, with Whiplash curling even tighter around him as though he was using his body as a barrier to keep the bad sleep stories away… as well as his memories.


	7. Terror Awakening

**Sorry for the long wait, I had a lot of things on my mind and the upcoming chapter was a pain in the ass to write.**

* * *

 **Brothers Under the Bright Circle**

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

 **Terror Awakening  
**

* * *

When the Bright Circle cast its warm glow, Littlefoot found himself being the first to wake up. Normally Whiplash would be the one to stir him first, but he was surprised that it didn't happen. He yawned and stretched out his forepaws, arching his back to work out some of the knots. When he looked over at Whiplash, he found him still asleep. He must have been exhausted from last night's travel and keeping an eye out for potential dangers.

He carefully nudged his treestar next to his brother's flank, the cool water it had gathered last night seemed to ease the discomfort from the scratches that Sharptooth had inflicted on him. All the tension in Whiplash's muscles left him.

Satisfied, Littlefoot made his way over to the pond and sat down near its edge, staring at his reflection. Despite Whiplash giving him a great source of company, he felt conflicted over what he had said about longnecks and other dinosaur kinds not mixing together, even his mother had said so. And yet… why did it feel so wrong?

Littlefoot shook his head and slapped the water's surface with his paw in frustration, sending glittering droplets everywhere. He heard Whiplash make a snorting sound, but he didn't stir from his slumber.

"I just don't get it," Littlefoot said to himself as he looked down at his reflection, "why can't we coexist? Wouldn't just be easier if we travelled together, rather than alone?"

His reflection didn't answer, it just frowned right at him, just like he was doing.

"Gee, you're a big help," Littlefoot said sarcastically.

He leaned forward to take a drink from the lake. He'd barely gotten a mouthful of the distasteful water, when something reached out and grabbed him by the nose. He paused with widened eyes at the strange thing that had gripped his nostrils tightly. But it wasn't the sight of the object that made him terrified, it was cutting him off from breathing while he still had his mouthful of water.

Without thinking, he threw his head and tossed whatever had grabbed him over his shoulder.

The strange creature went sailing into the air, a childlike scream escaping its mouth before it landed on the closest thing it could find: right on Whiplash's nose.

The moment the creature landed on his snout, Whiplash's eyes shot open, and the strange creature stared right into him.

At first Littlefoot thought he would react the same way he did: let out a scream and throw whatever it was back into the water, never to be seen again. To his surprise, Whiplash's expression was neutral. Instead, he lifted his head while the trembling little creature continued to stare right back him. Gently, Whiplash set it down and it let out an 'oof', dust billowing from where it had been placed.

"It's alright, little one," Whiplash reassured it calmly, "you don't have to be afraid."

Slowly, the creature lowered its arms and its bright blue eyes blinked up at Whiplash in amazement.

"Oh wow," it gasped in a female voice filled with wonder, "you're tall, you are, you are!"

Whiplash smiled kindly. "I get that a lot," he joked.

Littlefoot tilted his head, puzzled. "I've never seen your kind before," he said. "What are you?"

The moment the question left his lips, he suddenly found himself flinching underneath Whiplash's gaze.

"Littlefoot, that wasn't very polite," he scolded, "clearly this child is still very frightened after what you did."

Realising his mistake, and the little creature's now noticeable shaking, Littlefoot lowered his head, his tone now carrying his apology, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to throw you like that. I just got a fright, instead I made it worse."

The little creature's face turned into a smile. "That is okay, I did not mean to grab your nose," she said, "I thought it was a water tree, yep, yep, yep."

Whiplash nodded, satisfied, and he lowered his head, but he kept his nose a short distance so that she could see him properly. "What is your name, little one?" he asked her.

"I am Ducky," the creature answered, leaping to her feet, "I am a swimmer."

Littlefoot came a little closer, but kept a respectable distance from Ducky in case he frightened her again. To his surprise, Ducky didn't seem that particularly bothered by his approach, so he took another step forward and she beamed when she saw this, giving no indication that she was afraid anymore.

"Who are you?" she then asked, pointing at Littlefoot and Whiplash.

"My name's Littlefoot," Littlefoot said proudly.

"They call me Whiplash," Whiplash answered, his tail twitching to show why and Duck giggled.

Littlefoot shot Whiplash a puzzling glance, kicking a pebble behind him as he tried to think of something. Now that he knew who and what this strange creature was, it was quite obvious that she was alone, possibly separated from her family too when the big earthshake hit the land. He looked up at Whiplash and he caught the bigger longneck looking at him quizzically. He turned his eyes to Ducky and then back at Whiplash.

As if he understood what he was trying to ask, Whiplash turned his gaze to the sky for a moment and then back at Littlefoot before nodding.

Beaming, Littlefoot turned to Ducky, asking, "Um, you wanna go with us?"

"YES!" Ducky suddenly shouted and Littlefoot jumped with surprise.

Seeing his reaction to her outburst, she covered her mouth with her hands and giggled. "Oh yes, yes, yes, I do, I do!"

Once again, Whiplash's face was almost unreadable. Littlefoot was certain he did not like the idea of having a different travelling with them, but just like them, she was on her own and extremely small, leaving her vulnerable to sharpteeth attack. Maybe Whiplash understood what it felt like to be alone, but didn't want to concern his little brother with his distrust toward others that were not longnecks. Littlefoot recalled how Whiplash told him he had been raised by his father without a mother until a kind herd of longnecks took them in. Perhaps that was why Whiplash had an uneasy feeling about trusting another species.

Whiplash got up from his resting position and placed Littlefoot's treestar on his little brother's back. Slowly, being careful to not make Ducky nervous, he lowered his head toward them.

At first Ducky was confused until Littlefoot picked her up by the tail, placed her between his shoulders, and climbed onto Whiplash's head.

"Oh, no, no, no!" Ducky gasped. "It is very high up!"

"It's alright," Littlefoot reassured her. "Whiplash won't let you fall, I promise."

"But what if I do?" Ducky asked, now trembling.

"Trust that I will catch you if you do fall," Whiplash said. "I have caught Littlefoot when he fell off my back once or twice in the past. As long as you stay on Littlefoot, you will be safe."

Ducky nodded nervously and her grip on Littlefoot's skin tightened. Littlefoot winced, but he said nothing, knowing that it could make the situation worse for her.

* * *

Still travelling through the darkness at the bottom of the gorge, Cera trudged along. Eventually, she found herself wandering into an enormous cavern. Patches of light peeked through the cracks in the ceiling, thus giving Cera enough light to be able to see in the gloom, but it still muffled her field of vision. She didn't know how long she walked, but she found herself along a ledge that hugged the cavern wall.

For a long while, all she could think about was the annoyance at encountering the two longnecks. It had left her feeling bitter and irritated. Littlefoot had acted like he knew everything to every question, while Whiplash had been even worse. Even if the longnecks had saved her life, she didn't care.

"What makes them so special anyway?" she growled to herself, unaware that her voice was echoing through the cavern. "I can find my way to the Great Valley all by myself."

Still fuming, Cera was completely oblivious to her surroundings. She was so busy thinking about the longnecks that she didn't realise that the ledge had came to a dead stop, but something dark blocked the way and her horn slammed into it.

Shaking her head, she growled at the thing before realising that it dropped down to another level.

Bracing herself, she leapt onto the thing which felt oddly soft for a rock, but she didn't care, and onto another ledge.

The shafts of light continued to pass over the cracks, casting ominous shadows on the walls and floor. Fear began to grip Cera's mind and she took a nervous step backward, once again unaware of her footing. She suddenly slipped on the ledge and tumbled down with a grunt, she landed on something soft and rolled down.

She fell off the thing and landed on a pathway at the bottom, she turned her gaze upward as the shadows broke away into light on the thing she had been rolling on.

"Sharptooth!"

Screaming in terror, Cera darted behind a boulder and covered her eyes with her forepaws, waiting for the monster to attack.

But nothing happened.

Gathering her courage, she peeked around the boulder. Sharptooth was lying flat on his back, his tail draped over a pillar of rocks that had obviously fallen during the earthshake. His small arms were sticking in the air like tree branches on a rotten log. But most importantly, and to the threehorn's relief, he was not moving, his eyes were closed, and he wasn't breathing.

Cera, feeling bolder, walked up to the behemoth's body to peer at his teeth. Still he did not move. Now feeling cocky, she stuck her tongue at him tauntingly and began to ram her head against his snout repeatedly.

"You aren't so tough now," she laughed.

Now feeling quite confident and, with foolishness, she darted some ways back. She pawed at the ground, kicking stones and dust away, and wriggling her body. She charged with absolute ferocity and full force.

Before she even realised what was happening, Sharptooth's eye snapped open wide.

* * *

Sharptooth heard a scream, but since it was on his blind side, he could not see what it was. A stinging sensation almost caused him to flinch as the screaming thing lightly touched his eye.

The enormous monster pushed himself out from his prison, anger flaring in his muscles and heart, as he heard the screaming thing run away into the darkness. He wasn't sure how long he had been unconscious for, but he didn't care. The only thing that mattered to him was revenge, and revenge was quite sweet when it was cold.

He was most certain that the threehorn hatchling had fled to find other leaf eaters, and the faint scent of the hatchling longneck told him that she had unintentionally gone toward him… as well as the foreign longneck. It didn't surprise him that he was still alive, leaf eaters were quite durable when it came to survival, and the hatchlings would undoubtedly want to be near him for protection. But of course, one adult longneck would not stop him.

When he reached the surface, he realised that the Night Circle was casting its light across the landscape. The scents were stronger now when he turned his nose toward the east, and his stomach growled with additional hunger.

"So, you're alive."

Surprised, Sharptooth whirled around at the sound of someone speaking in his language. Unfortunately, whoever had spoken was well hidden and downwind of him, making it harder to locate them. He growled in frustration, lashing his tail.

"No need to get so uptight," the voice huffed from a nearby set of trees. "You might make our kind look like cowards. Then again, what can you expect from someone as infamous as you."

"Come out," Sharptooth hissed.

"If I came out and showed myself," the voice said with a sniff, "you might consider eating me. Any meat eater would go for anything if they were desperate enough. Judging from the sharp ridges on your sides, you wouldn't care, would you?"

Sharptooth frowned. "Luckily for you I'm not stupid enough to go after another meat eater," he said. "I have other plans."

The voice was quiet for a short moment before it spoke again. "You're going after the leaf eaters."

Sharptooth wasn't certain if it was a question, but he didn't care. "They ruined me, the longneck hatchling especially. I was getting hungry when I came after them, I would have had the hatchling in my jaws if it hadn't been for that strange longneck and the hatchling's mother."

"Strange longneck?"

Sharptooth began to pace around, his jaws snapping as the urge to chase after the leaf eaters became stronger. "It was a large longneck, didn't look like any longneck I'd seen before. He was greyish brown with spikes on his back, yellow eyes, a scar on his cheek, and a really long tail."

Once again, the voice was silent for a long moment, longer than Sharptooth liked. He shook his head, he was wasting time, and he was beginning to feel the hunger gnawing at his stomach. He needed to eat now.

He was about to set out when the other sharptooth spoke again, but his voice had a hint of uneasiness, "Take care, that strange longneck is not someone to be trifled with. Do not underestimate him."

Sharptooth snorted impatiently. "It's a longneck, a leaf eater, they are mindless and have no sense of purpose except to eat, drink, mate, and move."

Without looking over his shoulder, he turned and stalked into the moonlit night, leaving the stranger behind.

As he disappeared, the trees rustled and a smaller sharptooth emerged into the light of the Night Circle. His grey body with a blood red stripe was much lithe and smaller compared to the bulky appearance of Sharptooth, but he was still quite large for his kind. A pair of bony crests sat on top of his eyes, while three claws on each hand curved slightly in rest, and his narrow jaws, packed with serrated teeth, turned upward a little in the form of a smirk.

"Believe me, Sharptooth," he whispered to himself, "you might want to rethink about your target."

He paused and looked up at the Night Circle, his good left eye frowning thoughtfully.

"I don't think I'll be catching up with the longneck any time soon, not with Sharptooth hunting him and his little group. If I go in now, Sharptooth will surely finish me before I get the chance to finish what I started."

He lowered his head slightly.

"It would be best if I return and report what I know to His Lordship, he might be a little understanding. He never is in a good mood regardless of what I say."

He shrugged.

"But as they say: good things come to those who wait."

He turned and walked back into the trees, his black, empty left eye darkening in the night.


	8. We're In This Together

**Here we go guys, so sorry for the wait.  
**

 **This chapter was pretty tricky to write because Cera's character is really hard to get a grip on. Hope she's in character enough. If not, might need some pointers.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Brothers Under the Bright Circle**

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

 **We're In This Together**

* * *

A good night's sleep was all the group needed to keep on going the next morning. With Ducky now part of their ever-expanding herd, Whiplash had taken it upon himself to be extra careful when it came to be keeping an eye out for potential dangers. This sometimes led him to falling behind somewhat with him constantly looking over his shoulder as though he was expecting some sort of attack to happen at any moment.

Despite Whiplash's newfound mindset, this didn't stop Littlefoot from doing what he had always wanted to do: playing with someone his own age. He and Ducky decided to invent a game as they walked along the hard-cracked ground, jumping from one spot to the next and avoiding the jagged cracks as though they were a river of fire.

Ducky narrowly jumped when she almost stepped on a crack and tripped, giggling.

"Don't step on a crack," she told Littlefoot happily, "or you'll fall and break your back!"

Littlefoot did as she instructed and hopped from one spot to the next. His fleeted movements made it appear he was almost doing a silly dance, but he didn't pay any heed to how he looked. All that mattered was that he was having fun with someone that wasn't a grown up.

After several more hops, Ducky suddenly stopped as a loud noise occurred.

It took Littlefoot almost a second to notice that it was coming from her, and it was oddly familiar.

Ducky giggled and held her belly, "My stomach is talking, hehe!"

It wasn't long before Littlefoot's own stomach did the same and he turned his head away in embarrassment. "Yeah, mine too," he replied. He looked over his shoulder to see Whiplash approaching them, the larger longneck's expression was nothing but amused.

"We just left that waterhole behind us yesterday, Littlefoot," Whiplash chuckled, shaking his head.

Littlefoot shrunk back, avoiding Whiplash's gaze. Unlike the larger longneck, he wasn't used to surviving this long without food and water, and Ducky was just about the same. Whiplash seemed to sense his younger brother's change of mood and he lowered his head, giving him a gentle nuzzle.

"I know it's hard, little brother," he told him kindly, "but you've got to understand that surviving in a place like this is not very easy. You've known this since you hatched, but every little bit helps, even if we do not like it."

Littlefoot nodded in agreement and he set off again with Ducky walking next to him and Whiplash walking a small distance behind them, the game between him and his new friend was now forgotten. They came across a group of dried up trees with leaves as dry as the ground itself. Whiplash spotted the tasteless brown food and gently nudged the two, getting their attention.

"I'll get you two something to keep your strength up," he told them. "We don't know when we'll hit the next part of our journey or when we'll find anything edible or drinkable again."

Littlefoot nodded and he sat down on his haunches, while Ducky perched herself on his head.

As Whiplash walked over to the trees, Ducky tapped a finger on her snout thoughtfully.

Littlefoot looked up at her, seemingly sensing her mood. "What?"

"He is not very chatty, Whiplash isn't, oh no, no, no," she admitted out loud.

Littlefoot smiled softly. "I've known him since I hatched," he explained. "He doesn't talk much unless its important to say, but he's a really good brother when you can count on him. Although… he's not very trusting of others that aren't longnecks. He doesn't even talk about where he came from except he's from a land that's very far from here."

Ducky crossed her legs and leaned back, her mind wandering even more. "Maybe he is sad," she suggested.

"Sad?" Littlefoot asked, confused.

Ducky nodded. "I do not know, he seems sad, but maybe he does not want to talk about it for some reason," she guessed.

Littlefoot became even more confused. Whiplash had explained that his past was quite difficult to talk about, and that his mother had passed away before he hatched with his father caring for him until a kind herd of longnecks took him in. The further Littlefoot dug into the past, the more Whiplash closed off from the rest of the world, as though every ounce of his past filled him with pain and sadness.

"Maybe you should talk to him," Ducky suddenly said, pointing at Littlefoot. "He does not trust me."

Littlefoot shook his head doubtfully. "Believe me, Ducky," he sighed, "I tried asking, but the more I ask, the more he turns away and changes the subject. It's like whatever happened hurt him pretty badly."

The sound of leaves rattling together caused the two friends to look up to see Whiplash with a branch in his mouth and was struggling to pull it off. No matter how strong Whiplash was, the branch was even stronger, and the larger longneck had to dig his paws into the hard ground to keep his balance. The tree emitted a screech that didn't sound like your typical tree, but Whiplash continued to pull. Something slid down the branch he was pulling with an even louder screech, but this one was of pure terror. It bounced off his snout and landed on Littlefoot's head.

Littlefoot became as still as stone as he stared at the thing that had fallen on him. It peered into his eyes with even bigger, wider, and more terrified eyes of its own. Without a second thought, he threw his head back, trying desperately to shake it off. The thing's claws had a firm grip on his head, but after several shakes, it flew off and landed with a heavy thud on the ground.

Littlefoot stood stock still, unable to comprehend what had just happened, but Ducky somehow mustered up the courage to come forward to look at the creature.

The creature was unlike anything the two younger dinosaurs had ever seen. It was small with terrified black eyes, tiny legs and odd-looking protrusions coming from its front legs that Ducky called arms. But what made this creature unique were the strange, leathery objects attached to its arms and its sharp looking face.

Ducky drew closer until she was a respectable distance from it, her curiosity overcoming her nervousness. "Who are you?" she asked.

The creature drew back and covered its long face with its arms in terror, but it uttered its response in a stutter, "M-my name Petrie."

Ducky giggled and offered her paws out to Petrie, pulling him up to his feet. "Petrie, huh? Funny name!" She giggled again, unable to help herself.

"I fly?" Petrie asked hopefully.

"No… you fall," Ducky said hesitantly.

Petrie let out a pitiful wail and hid his head beneath his wings, whimpering about his failure. Littlefoot and Whiplash glanced at each other in confusion and then Littlefoot returned his gaze back to Petrie. "Why were you even up there in the first place?" he asked, still puzzled. "You're a flyer, aren't you? You don't look like a faller."

"Me no fly so me climb up tree to try," Petrie explained, flapping hid wings as a demonstration. He flapped for a few seconds, lifting higher until his eyes caught a glimpse of the ground. Panic immediately gripped his tiny mindset and he fell back to the ground, trembling.

Whiplash frowned at this. "Seems as though he's afraid to fly because of being up high."

"It would make sense to me," Ducky agreed, nodding. She approached Petrie and helped him back on his feet. "It is alright. Many things do not fly at all, nope, nope, nope. Why not come with us? We're going to the Great Valley together."

Whiplash's expression changed to neutral for a split moment before his shoulders slumped a little. "Very well," he gave in. "But I must warn you that the more we get together in this group, the harder it will be for all of us. While I understand that there's a lot of families split apart, we can't keep picking them up. We have to consider our own survival, first and foremost."

"But it doesn't seem fair on them," Littlefoot protested. "What if someone we next meet is hurt? What then?"

"Then you better hope that we don't," Whiplash sighed, and then motioned with his head to follow. "We better get a move on. The Bright Circle is beginning its fall, and I don't want to be caught out in the open where there is a chance that a sharptooth will find us."

Littlefoot inhaled deeply before letting his breath go. He lowered himself to Petrie and Ducky. "Come on," he said, "before he changes his mind."

At the offering, Petrie scrambled up Littlefoot's nose, scratching his skin and pinching at a sensitive spot on his nose with his claws. Littlefoot almost grunted in pain, but he reined it in when he saw Whiplash watching intensively. Any sound uttered from his mouth would have resulted in giving Whiplash an actual reason to cast the other two out. He didn't really blame Whiplash for being protective, especially after he had just lost his mother not too long ago. His little brother's safety was his responsibility and his alone until they reached the Great Valley.

The group continued onward, leaving behind a chance to scrounge up anything edible, but Littlefoot didn't mind. If they didn't find anything within the next few days he could resort to eating his treestar, but the thought of eating the last gift his mother had given him made him feel guilty. He would rather starve than eat something so precious.

The Bright Circle was nearing the end of its journey when they reached an enormous forest unlike anything they had seen before. Trees bigger than even Whiplash towered above them, all of them packed tightly together with vines hanging from their branches. Unfortunately, this made it difficult for the large longneck to pass through. Every time he would squeeze between the trunks, he almost got himself entangled in the thick vines or his belly getting stuck amongst them.

A tiny part of Littlefoot felt guilty that he, Ducky and Petrie had it easy slipping through the roots of the trees, but they patiently waited for their guardian to catch up.

When Whiplash finally managed to bypass the thick barrier, he was covered in dead vines on his neck, back and tail, his greyish brown skin aligned with small scratches, and his breathing was laboured from nearly getting stuck so many times.

Suddenly, his head shot up and his body became tense, his tail raised slightly above the ground. One paw was held up off the ground as he glanced at his surroundings. Littlefoot stood stock still as he watched him warily, even Petrie and Ducky were utterly silent. All three knew this posture well, for they had seen their parents often stop to listen for any potential dangers.

A sound came from somewhere on Whiplash's right and the longneck immediately shoved the three younglings into the shadow of a large root with his snout. Littlefoot kept his mouth shut, knowing that uttering a peep would put all of them in danger. Whiplash then backed away slowly and froze in place, making himself appear like a tree since his skin was almost the exact same colour as the tree itself. He hung his neck a little and he curled his tail around the branch of another tree, making it appear that they were vines just as dead as the real deal.

Littlefoot could feel Petrie trembling between his eyes while Ducky placed her hand on his neck to keep herself steady, all of them waiting with battered breath and wondering what had spooked the big longneck.

They got their answer a few minutes later when a hissing sound came from around the corner of a boulder. A creature walking on sprawled legs and a long thin tail came around, its forked tongue flicking in and out of its long snout. An enormous fin unlike anything Littlefoot had ever seen curled over its back, and a pair of hungry yellow eyes looked left and right, searching for its next meal.

Its tongue snaked out again, tasting the air, trying to find anything worth snacking on.

It paused as it came near the root where the three were hiding, and it tilted its body back as it continued to flick its tongue out, hissing underneath its foul breath. The fin on its back rattled as though in frustration and it slithered away into the rustling trees.

All three exhaled deeply, relieved that the creature was gone, and they looked up just as Whiplash moved out from his hiding place, his sides heaving as though he had ran for a long time. Had the strange creature made him frightened too?

"Thanks," Littlefoot smiled at him.

Whiplash smiled back, but he didn't respond in kind, knowing that words were not enough.

The group continued deeper into the forest, the sounds of far away creatures echoing through the fading light of the Bright Circle. Every sound that came only made Petrie even more nervous and jumpy. And when a creature seemed to scream as though it had been eaten by something, he scrambled up Whiplash's leg.

Annoyed, Whiplash stopped and glared at the tiny flyer that had a strong grip on his back leg. When Petrie doesn't get the hint, he attempted to shake him off, only for Petrie to grip even harder and he scuttled up onto his back, his neck and perched on the back of his head.

"Petrie, I'm going to only say this once," Whiplash warned, his tone dropping to annoyance, "get off my head."

"But you have a nice head, flathead," Petrie giggled. Both Ducky and Littlefoot laughed.

Whiplash grunted something underneath his breath and his long tail reached behind the flyer and grabbed him gently, plucking him off and quite rudely dropped him on the ground. He continued walking, ignoring Petrie's saddened expression.

Littlefoot approached Petrie. "I think you owe him an apology," he told him sternly.

Petrie's expression dropped even further, and he stood up, brushing the dust from his wings and hopped after the big longneck, calling his name as he did so. But Whiplash ignored him, so Littlefoot ran ahead until he was right in front of Whiplash, seemingly blocking his path and forcing him to stop in his tracks.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "You're usually not like this."

Whiplash hesitated and looked down at the ground, his expression completely unreadable now. "You would not understand," he muttered quietly. "Even if I explained it a hundred times over, it wouldn't matter."

"Then help me to understand," Littlefoot pushed.

Whiplash turned away, avoiding his little brother's eyes.

A squeal of terror tore through the forest, causing both Littlefoot and Whiplash to look up. Ducky and Petrie were scrambling in different directions until they grabbed onto Littlefoot's legs. Pounding feet echoed around them and Littlefoot quickly darted underneath Whiplash. With the conversation forgotten for now, Whiplash curled his tail and spread his legs in a fighting stance, ready to take on whatever was coming.

Or who.

His tail lowered when he saw what was making all the noise.

It was Cera, she was running as fast as she could and constantly looking over her shoulder. She had her eyes set on whatever was behind her far too much and she wasn't looking where she was going. She slammed into the back of Whiplash's leg and fell backward, her head smashing onto the ground and knocking her out.

She wasn't out for very long, but when she woke up, her vision was a hazy blur. Her whole world was spinning, and the figures that looked down upon her were just as blurry and out of focus. She recognised the concerned Littlefoot, but she didn't know who the flyer or swimmer were. But if Littlefoot was here, that meant that Whiplash couldn't be too far behind. This left her feeling extremely angry at this and she sat up quickly, her horn almost poking Littlefoot's eye out.

He stepped back away from her cautiously, but she caught a glimpse of Whiplash standing a short distance from them. His frown was just as twisted as hers, indicating that he wasn't pleased to see her either.

"What are you doing here, Cera?" Littlefoot asked nervously. "Why were you so frightened?"

"Frightened?" Cera huffed and shouldered passed him. "Me?" She laughed as she attempted to walk away, but Whiplash's tail snaked out in front of her path, stopping her from leaving. She growled and faced him with a glare. "Let me pass!"

"Just because I don't like you or your kind," Whiplash grunted, "doesn't mean I want you to get eaten. There are meat eaters lurking around here, and we just happened to have met one not too long ago."

Littlefoot's eyes widened with surprise, but he shook it off and cautiously approached the threehorn while Whiplash watched. "You didn't answer my question earlier," he said.

"I'm not afraid," Cera snorted, tilting her head back pompously. "I could have been with the other threehorns by now, but I chose to come back and warn you. I met Sharptooth!"

At the mention of the monster that had killed his mother, Littlefoot became paralysed with fear. Petrie screamed and latched onto his neck while Ducky scurried underneath him, trembling in terror. Whiplash frowned suspiciously, but he was once again unreadable.

The moment passed and Littlefoot glared dangerously at Cera, but she glared stubbornly back at him.

"Come on, Cera," he protested, "Sharptooth is dead. He fell down into the big underground."

Whiplash nodded in agreement. "While I wasn't there when he fell, I find that difficult to believe that he even is alive." He lowered his head down to their level. "Tell me, if you met Sharptooth, how are you still alive?"

If looks could kill, Whiplash wouldn't have been breathing when Cera's face contorted into a nasty look. She turned away, her tail held high as she ignored his question and continued with her story. "I was all alone in the dark, just Sharptooth and me." She whirled around, lowering herself to Ducky's level where she was still hiding beneath the root. "I can hear him breathing." She deepened her breathing, making it sound monstrous and terrifying.

"Enough, Cera," Littlefoot snapped angrily, but she too ignored him, pushing closer to Ducky while Petrie watched, his eyes focused on her alone.

"I could see one big ugly eye looking for me!"

Whiplash shook his head in disbelief. "You can keep making up the story, Cera," he smirked slightly. "Do you mind explaining how such a small threehorn stood up to him?" He lifted a paw slightly to prove a point.

Littlefoot couldn't help but agree with his question. This sounded like Cera was fabricating the story, and even if she had seen Sharptooth he was as good as dead and no longer a cause for worry. But the fact remained that Ducky and Petrie were believing every word of it, not once considering that something as small as her could stand up to a full-grown monster such as Sharptooth.

"You think I'm making it up?" Cera roared and rushed into Whiplash's face, but he barely even flinched as she kicked up dust in his eyes. He didn't even raise his head in response, it was as though he had heard all of this before.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "There is a slim chance of Sharptooth being alive, but the way you're telling the story is making it difficult for me to believe." One of his eyes glanced at Littlefoot. "Even you find it hard to believe, correct?"

Littlefoot scraped at the ground with one forepaw, and his silence provided the answer that Whiplash was looking for.

Cera's whole body was shaking with rage as each word left Whiplash's mouth. For someone who didn't talk very much, he certainly had a way of getting on her nerves. She roared in anger and headbutted a nearby root, smashing it to pieces. In the result of doing so, Ducky was still hiding beneath it and she went sailing through the air. Both Littlefoot and Whiplash looked up with concern as they saw the tiny swimmer disappear amongst the long grass.

Littlefoot ran over to the grass, trying desperately to find her, but with his long neck being far too short for him to see above the grass, it was nearly impossible for him to see. Whiplash came over slowly, being ever so mindful where he was placing his large feet.

"Where she go?" Petrie asked worriedly, now having perched on Littlefoot's head.

"I don't know," Littlefoot admitted. "I can't see anything."

"If I move a step," Whiplash explained, "I might end up crushing her without realising it."

Cera remained silent, not bothering to care about a lost swimmer.

Littlefoot raised his head as high as it could go and tried to sniff the air, but Ducky's scent was far too faint and his sniffer wasn't very good. Even Whiplash, who had a slightly better nose, couldn't pick any scent of hers. He slowly inched his long neck forward, searching for anything from above that stood out amongst the brown grass, anything that looked like a hatchling swimmer.

"Ducky!" Littlefoot called. "Where are you?"

As far as Whiplash could tell, there wasn't a predator nearby that was a threat to the children, so he didn't berate Littlefoot for calling out. As far as he could tell, they were utterly alone in this vast wilderness.

"Hey, what that?" Petrie asked, pointing with a claw. Littlefoot and Whiplash followed the direction he was pointing and spotted a large clump of grass surrounded by a mound of rocks, and it was moving and giggling.

Littlefoot hurried over to it, but Whiplash remained where he was to avoid causing any problems. Cera followed reluctantly, still angry at the two longnecks who didn't believe her story about Sharptooth being alive. So what if she made up some of it, that still gave the indication that he was up and ready to kill.

When Littlefoot reached the grass, Ducky came backing out, still giggling. Confused, he drew closer until she held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks. He soon found out what was making the grass tremble as something poked its head out, something with dreamy looking eyes. The creature snapped up some grass and swallowed it down, it then moved onto the next clump and the next, chomping down until there was nothing left but a pile of rocks and bits of eggshells. He sniffed around for more before he laid down and went to sleep.

Ducky had found an egg and it had hatched into a creature with four blunt spikes on the end of its tail.

"He is a spiketail," Ducky explained when Littlefoot asked what it was. "I call him Spike."

She looked up at Whiplash hopefully, and the big longneck immediately knew what she was going to ask. "He can come," he sighed as he glanced around for any signs of other spiketails. "It doesn't look like there is anyone around to care for him."

"Oh no!" Cera snapped, stamping a foot dramatically. "He is not coming! We've got enough moves to feed and who knows how long before we find more food. I am not travelling with a spiketail. It's bad enough that I'm walking with a longneck, let alone two for that matter!"

She then glared up at Whiplash. "You even eat a lot more than we do!"

Whiplash glared hotly at her. "Do not assume I eat so much just because I'm larger than you. In fact, I ate my fair share before we found you, Ducky and Petrie. I do not need to eat again for a long time. What I'm more concerned about is you young ones."

Cera attempted to come up with a comeback, but the words were lost on her and she stomped away angrily, her tail raising mockingly. She wouldn't admit to his face, but she knew he had a point, she just didn't want to say that she was wrong. She was far too proud to say anything.

But that wasn't going to solve the problem with Spike.

Littlefoot remembered how he once saw young flyers fighting over sweet bubbles Anyone would go into a frenzy for one of those, even he would. He looks around for a moment until he spotted a bush covered in sweet bubbles. He plucked a small bunch and dangled it in front of Spike's nose. Spike raised his head, sniffing deeply and gobbled down the juicy substance. He licked his lips and sniffed around for more until Littlefoot presented them in front of him. He snapped them up again and Littlefoot beamed with delight at this new discovery.

"Guys, I just had an idea," he announced. "Ducky, I'll give you a bunch of sweet bubbles and you can ride my tail. Spike will follow, I'm certain he will."

Ducky clapped eagerly as Littlefoot handed her a larger bunch. She hopped on the edge of his tail while Petrie climbed onto his back, clutching his treestar protectively. Ducky dangled the sweet bubbles in front of Spike's nose. Littlefoot moved before he could snatch them up again and Spike immediately began to follow.

Whiplash nodded approvingly.

"Fine," Cera snorted, "but I'm not going to care. He's not my responsibility."

A sudden crack in the air caused all five of the children to look up, startled. Whiplash lowered tail and then his head until he was nose to nose with the little threehorn, his eyes burning with anger and disapproval.

"All of you," he growled lowly, "are MY responsibility, but Littlefoot is mine first and foremost. I might not like you, threehorn, but as long as I'm around, you won't need to think that way." He then shoved her forward with his snout until she was amongst the others. "Follow Littlefoot, I will guard the back."

The group set off again, this time they were bigger than they were before. But Cera was not happy that a longneck had told her off for simply not caring about a spiketail, so she moved ahead of Littlefoot, any excuse to put herself at a distance between her and Whiplash. Whiplash didn't seem particularly bothered by this behaviour and he did as he promised, keeping an eye on their backs and watching for any potential dangers.

Littlefoot found himself subconsciously glancing over his shoulder, a question forming at the back of his mind. He hadn't seen Whiplash this angry before, it was extremely rare for him to even display such emotion.

He was plagued with questions that continued to haunt him: why was Whiplash so distant, troubled, and aloof? What did he have a reason to fear? But more importantly, why was he not with his herd? Why was he so alone in this world?

All these questions were forced out of his mind when he heard the sound of snapping teeth. He couldn't think about that right now, Spike was getting ever so eager to eat the sweet bubbles.


	9. The Past Always Comes Back

**Here it is guys, hope I didn't leave you hanging too long.  
**

 **I also hope you enjoy some lore from Whiplash's herd. It's not uncommon for many different herds of dinosaurs to have different cultures (at least that's how I headcanon it), and I thought I'd show that with Whiplash telling a "folklore hero" story, kind of like with Watership Down's "El-ahrairah and Frith" and Firebringer's "Starbuck and Herne".**

 **I basically migrated my idea from my original novel that I was planning to write, but never could.**

 **Please give some feedback, as I really wanted this to work in some hindsight.**

* * *

 **Brothers Under the Bright Circle**

* * *

 **Chapter 9**

 **The Past Always Comes Back**

* * *

It was two days later since the group got together that they came to a small fast flowing river. The younger members were tired, thirsty and quite hungry from lack of experience and they greedily downed as much as they could to satisfy themselves. Whiplash wasn't particularly bothered thanks to having experienced the harsh wilderness in the past, but he was more than happy to quench his thirst, only taking in a few mouthfuls so that Littlefoot and the others could get what they needed.

As he tilted his head back to let the water flow down his throat, he spotted Cera further away from the group from the corner of his eye. She didn't even look his way, but he suspected she knew he was looking at her. Nevertheless, she drank her fill despite her wariness of the others that all hung out together like as if there was no differences between them.

Even though it had only been a few days since they had found Ducky at the pond, it had felt like weeks since he had a satisfying drink of fresh water that wasn't so dirty and foul tasting. The feeling of the water pouring down his throat had no words for him to describe and he wished he did.

"Wow."

He opened his eyes and was surprised to see Littlefoot and the others looking up at him with awe. He quirked a brow and a tiny smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "What?"

His little brother pointed at his neck with a paw. "That trick you just did," he explained. "I've never seen…" He hesitated before he sighed. "I've never seen my grandparents do that before."

Whiplash lowered his head down to his level, a twinkle of mirth sparkling in his eye. "That's because we very rarely came across water that was completely fulfilling," he told him. "I think they knew of it, of course. But it's no trick, Littlefoot, practically all of us longnecks can do it as long as you don't choke."

"So, what is the trick?" Ducky asked curiously.

He turned to her, the spark in his eye never fading. "Only by getting a large mouthful of water." He dunked his muzzle into the water, barely breaking its surface, and lifted his neck as high as it could go and tilted it back, swallowing deeply. "That's all there is to it. When there isn't much water around, you take as much as you can in your mouth, throw back and let your throat do the rest. It saves on precious time in case a sharp-tooth appears and takes you by surprise. Your eyes and ears must always be open to your surroundings."

Littlefoot's expression changed to confused. "You do that in case something could attack?"

Whiplash nodded in response. Ducky and Petrie let off an 'ooh' sound as they understood what he meant. Littlefoot seemed to understand it better as he looked away, his young mind piecing the puzzle together.

He then turned back and asked: "Did your father teach you that?"

The mood was instantly changed the moment the question left the younger longneck's mouth. Gone was the mirth in Whiplash's eyes, now replaced with a great sadness. His mind flashed with memories of his childhood, of his own father who had nurtured and raised him since the day he first hatched. His father had taught him almost everything there was to know about surviving and looking out those he cared about.

"Whiplash, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ask," Littlefoot stammered. He galloped into his elder brother's field of vision and everything faded away from Whiplash's mind. "Are you alright?"

He forced himself to smile, but it was weak and pathetic. He didn't want to answer and give Littlefoot the idea that it had hurt him more than he would care to tell. Littlefoot was very observant, and it was the one thing he didn't like about him, the ongoing questions probed deeper and deeper into his very being and it irked him to no end.

In an attempt to dissuade him from his questioning, Whiplash nudged him and Spike forward, much to the sleepy spiketail's disappointment. "Come, we need to move on and find a place to rest for the night," he suggested, much to Littlefoot's ongoing confusion.

He was about to call out to the threehorn, but Cera was already moving long before Petrie and Ducky had taken their place on Spike's back. He frowned in annoyance, unable to hide how much she was willing to get underneath his skin.

They came upon a steep looking cliff that overlooked a wide gorge. Littlefoot glanced around for a way around it, but he couldn't see anything that looked like a bridge. While he debated with Whiplash on a way to get across or down, Spike's nose began to twitch. Ducky leaned forward over his head and peered into his violet eyes curiously.

"Do you smell something, Spike?" she asked.

Spike grunted and inhaled deeply before nodding.

Scratching her head, Ducky sniffed too, but she couldn't smell anything that would be worth noting. "I do not smell anything," she sighed. She turned to Petrie. "Can you smell anything?"

He clambered over and sniffed as well. "I smell, I smell…" He paused and looked confused. "Hm, Ducky."

She giggled, but she still couldn't smell what it was that interested Spike. He was still sniffing, but he wasn't paying attention to the others. He put his nose to the ground and began to walk forward. Whiplash turned his attention from Littlefoot and saw that Spike was moving so he drew a little closer and poked his side with his muzzle. Spike stopped in his tracks, but his focus wasn't on the larger longneck.

"Something worth smelling?" Whiplash asked.

Spike nodded once again.

"Spike smells something," Ducky explained, "he does, he does. I just cannot smell what he's smelling."

Cera's mood turned sour and she snorted before kicking up dust in Spike's face as she walked past, head tilted back snobbishly. "There's nothing to smell but sand and rocks," she snorted.

Spike's expression changed to hurt but Ducky petted his neck comfortingly, making him feel a little better.

Whiplash rolled his eyes. "Sometimes the smallest scent can mean anything," he explained. He lifted his head high and sniffed for a moment before he frowned in thought. "Unfortunately, your sniffers aren't as well developed yet, and you might smell things that can be easily missed. However, Spike's is… unique I would say. I might not smell things as well as he can, but…" He inhaled, his chest expanding before he let it go. "I don't think many of you have smelt green food before."

All of the children stopped and looked up at him, bewildered. Littlefoot sniffed the air too and he soon detected what he hadn't seen since his mother had given him his treestar. "I smell it now!" he exclaimed, eyes wide with excitement.

Ducky hugged Spike's neck and he smiled wide.

"Good job, Spike," Littlefoot complimented and Spike's smile grew wider.

Whiplash lowered his head once more, warmth now clear in his eyes. "Can you lead the way?"

Spike nodded, and he glanced around the cliff. Whiplash could tell that the scent was faintly coming from down the gorge, so there had to be a way down somehow. Spike's face lit up when he spotted something, and he bolted over to it, with the others following close behind. Ducky soon saw what he had seen, and she beamed with delight.

"Me think Spike see a path down," Petrie pointed out.

Littlefoot approached it and jumped back. The pathway looked very narrow and didn't appear to be able to support Whiplash's weight. Whiplash chuckled at Littlefoot's concern. "Don't worry," he said. "The cliff isn't that steep for me, I should be able to slide down its face as long as I'm careful."

Someone as large as Whiplash couldn't possibly slide down a slope as steep as this. At least that's what Littlefoot first thought, but his brother had surprised him before in the past, so he doubted this would be any different. All he could do was acknowledge and trust that Whiplash knew what he was doing while he guided the others down to safety.

With his much smaller companions taking the safer route, Whiplash scanned the cliff's edge for anything that looked sturdy enough to support his weight. As far as he could see, there didn't seem to be a safe way down for him at all, but he was proven wrong a moment later when he spotted a dirt slope a longneck length from his far right. He approached it cautiously, his mind constantly working overtime to find any loose rock that would hinder his descent down. He even placed his front feet on the edge of the cliff to test if it could take his entire weight. When the dirt didn't give way, he nodded with satisfaction and stepped back, inhaling deeply and bracing himself.

He hadn't done this before, but he recalled how his father had shown him a method in going down a steep slope like this one, mainly using it as a means of escaping a hungry sharp-tooth that he couldn't fight or if he was far too exhausted to even fight at all. This tactic usually involved putting most of his weight on his rump and back legs and let the slope do the rest, but he still had to be careful when he went down as it could eventually backfire if he didn't know how to control his momentum. He'd only done this a few times during training, perhaps it could assist him again should the situation call for it in the future.

"Father's teachings don't fail me now," he whispered to himself.

Carefully, he leaned backward, resting all of his weight on his back legs and rump, tucking his long thin tail close to his body, and let himself go.

At first it seemed like he wasn't gaining much ground, but eventually, the speed began to increase as he went further down. The descent soon came to a steeper slope and Whiplash had to angle his legs slightly to keep control over his body, his stomach lurched with discomfort as he continued to gain more speed. Faster and faster he fell, but he kept hold of his growing panic, remembering his father's teachings of remaining calm.

He soon spotted the bottom and he had to fight the urge to regurgitate his last meal from out of fear the quicker he approached it. His backside hurt from the constant rubbing of the stones against his thick skin, and the three gashes on his sides were itching from the dirt encasing it.

His trepidation soon ended the moment he returned to solid ground, but his momentum still carried him forward, toward a rock that he hadn't noticed was there before. He fought back the cry of pain from his throat as his chest slammed into it and he collapsed on his uninjured side. He thought he heard the shouts of concern from Littlefoot and his spinning vision just barely made out the five children racing to him, with Cera only a small distance behind Spike.

Littlefoot was the first to reach him and he pushed his nose against his scarred cheek with concern. "Whiplash, are you alright?" he demanded. "Say something!"

Whiplash grunted in response but winced in discomfort when his chest filled him with pain when he breathed. He stood up slowly, sucking in slow gulps of air in the hopes that nothing was damaged outside… or inside.

"I'm going to feel that in the morning," he groaned, shaking his head, once he confirmed that there were no broken bones. He should count himself as lucky with taking a blow to the chest like that at the speed he was going. "Nothing's broken, thank Sauro."

Littlefoot glanced at the others and then back at Whiplash in confusion. "Who is Sauro?" he asked.

The elder longneck became puzzled and lifted a brow. "You mean to tell me you have not heard of him?" he asked, surprised.

All five children shook their heads.

Whiplash ducked his head to put a paw on his forehead. He had forgotten that Littlefoot did not grown up in the same herd he had and that different herds of longnecks often had different beliefs, customs and cultures. Only some had legends that all of them shared together. After he regained his composure, he smiled softly. "I'll tell you about him after we fill our stomachs," he promised.

Once he was certain that he was just bruised, they followed Spike down the gorge, the scent of green food now becoming stronger to their noses. Whiplash raised his head when it became apparent that they were nearing their destination and his eyes widened with relief.

"There it is," he announced, and the children cheered with relief when they spotted a large clump of trees packed tightly together at the far end of the gorge, their branches covered in the greenest food they had ever seen. Even Cera, who had been stubbornly keeping away from them, could not help but water at the thought of having green food to eat.

Unable to help themselves, the young ones ran ahead toward food, possibly water, shelter and rest.

Whiplash watched them go with a hint of a smile forming on his lips. It had been a long gruelling journey since they last saw edible food and drinkable water, resources that could benefit them in the long run until the next time they came across another oasis. For the time being, the children could be children and enjoy their accomplishments.

Slowly he approached them, watching the children jump about excitedly until they paused.

Oh.

"The trees are too tall," Littlefoot sighed, lowering his head in disappointment. "Unless we climb on each other's backs, there's no way we can reach the green food."

Cera snorted. "There's no way I'm standing underneath a longneck while you guys gorge yourselves!"

Littlefoot opened his mouth to retort but stopped himself short. There was no use in starting a fight.

Ever since she had joined up with them, Cera had been nothing but spoiled, ungrateful and nasty towards him and the others, but it only got worse whenever Whiplash voiced his opinions about which direction they should go. Littlefoot had only ever asked Whiplash on whether it was safe to keep going because his height granted him a better view of their surroundings, plus his large appearance kept most sharp-teeth at bay, and he had the most experience surviving out here out of all six of them.

When he was smaller, he thought he had only caught a glimpse of a pair or two of sharp-teeth, but they kept their distance because of their herd's enormous size and numbers.

Of course, what did Cera know that he didn't?

A shadow loomed over them and they all stopped and turned to see Whiplash's form blocking out the fierce heat of the Bright Circle. He stood as taller than he ever had before, but he didn't seem to be paying it any heed. He approached the tallest tree and grabbed a large mouthful of green food and branches. He spread his feet wide, rooting them to the ground to steady himself, and began to shake his neck and head from side to side.

As the force of his shaking increased, the tree let go of its precious resources and green food of many shapes fell like sky water.

Ducky and Petrie leapt with joy on Spike's back while the little spiketail ran around happily, snapping up whatever he could catch as they fell.

Cera laid down with her head on her paws, her eyes stared icily up at Whiplash, but not saying anything, her pride now dented again.

The longneck had done it again, showing his uses while she sat on the sidelines like as if she didn't matter.

Littlefoot grabbed a small mouthful of Whiplash's gift and chewed happily, smiling up at him.

Whiplash smiled back in return and let go of the tree that was now completely barren. He quietly made himself over to another that was still green and stripped what he could. He chewed, enjoying the sweet taste of peace and safety for the first time in a long time. He stopped as memories came back to him, but he shook them off, wanting to forget the hurt that he had felt.

When Littlefoot saw his face fall, he made to approach, but stopped when he heard a shout of surprise.

He whirled around in time to see Cera charge directly for Spike, who had been eating from a large pile of green food. The moment she made for him, he bolted away until she stopped at the pile, snorting and huffing puffs of hot air from her nostrils. She pawed at the ground, dust billowing, and shook her single horn threateningly.

"Cera, what are you doing?!" Littlefoot demanded, running up to her.

"I'm hungry," Cera snapped, facing him with an angry look. "This is my pile, longneck, and no spiketail is getting their slobber all over it. Go get your own!"

Littlefoot lowered himself slightly, bracing for a fight. "But you didn't have to chase Spike away," he protested. "There's plenty of green food for everybody."

She shook her head and took a large step forward, shoving her horn beneath his neck. "You wanna say that to my face, LONGNECK!" she growled. "You going to fight me for it?"

CRACK!

All of the children looked up, startled by the loud noise. All they saw was Whiplash staring coldly down at them and his tail raised above his hips, the tip curled outward. Littlefoot had never seen so much rage in his expression before. His brows were squinting, his lips pulled back to show his teeth, and his nostrils quivered with each breath he took.

It was frightening to see the brother he knew so full of anger and pain. He thought he knew him, and it scared him to think that he still didn't.

"Enough!" Whiplash bellowed when Cera tried again, he stamped a forepaw with enough force to cause a tiny earthshake. "You will stop this infighting, or Sauro help me, I will force you to."

He snapped his head in the direction of the threehorn, who stared stubbornly at him, but then cowered when she saw the fire in his yellow eyes. "I don't know what your problem is, threehorn," he growled, "but you will take that anger out on me! Not on Spike, not Petrie, or Ducky, and most certainly NOT my little brother."

In an act of defiance, Cera stood on the tips of her toes and shoved her horn against his nose. "You're not the boss of me, longneck," she snapped, forgetting her fear, "I don't need you leading me to some Great Valley that possibly doesn't exist, and I don't need YOU protecting me! I looked after myself before you came along acting like you know everything! Don't act like you know me! You haven't lost anyone! You even have a herd while some of us don't!"

"Cera!" Littlefoot roared.

But it was too late.

The fire inside Whiplash's eyes died, replacing itself with pain all in the span of a single second.

He lowered his head in defeat, but when he spoke again, his voice was filled with pain and sorrow.

"You're right, Cera," the large longneck whispered, his tone bitter ice, "I haven't lost anyone, no one that I can remember."

He turned to leave, his tail now dragging uselessly on the ground, and his long neck once carried with pride now hung like the dead vines from the lifeless forest.

"If you believe that you are better off without my protection, _threehorn_ " -he seemed to spit the word- "then so be it."

"Whiplash, come back!" Littlefoot called for him, tears welling up in his eyes.

But Whiplash ignored his pleas and continued down the path through the green forest, and not once did he look back.

Immediately, Littlefoot whirled upon Cera and glared ice-cold daggers at her. At the change of attitude from the longneck, Cera flinched. "You don't get it do you?" he growled. "You don't know what Whiplash has been through before he met my herd, before he met you and the rest of us!"

"Then I guess you don't know him like you think you do," Cera huffed.

Littlefoot ignored her jab. "You hurt him deeply, Cera," he went on, "in more ways than one."

Spike approached cautiously as Ducky hopped off his back and Petrie climbed on top of Littlefoot's head.

"He is hurt very badly," Ducky agreed, placing a hand upon her chest where her heart was.

"Whiplash only told me himself that he lost his mother before he even hatched," Littlefoot explained. "I never asked why he came to my mother's herd out of respect for what was extremely private to him. She only said he came a full Night Circle ago before I hatched. She said she saved my life when an egg stealer tried to take me away to be eaten."

Ducky covered her mouth to stop a gasp of horror from escaping her mouth. Cera's face remained neutral, but she was listening intensively.

"You were there, Cera," Littlefoot continued, "when Whiplash saved us from Sharptooth. You saw him fall. He probably feels terrible that mother had to face Sharptooth alone. If you hadn't distracted him when he knocked Sharptooth down, he wouldn't have fallen and got those bad scratches on his side."

"You mean, those scratches on his side were from Sharptooth?" Petrie whispered, trembling.

Littlefoot nodded and he looked over at them all. "Whiplash isn't just protecting us because we're alone and have nowhere to go except to the Great Valley," he sighed, "he's doing it because he wants to. I've known him my entire life, but he's been around ten cold times longer. He's seen things we haven't, we need him not for his experience, not because he's my brother, he's OUR brother. A herd means family, and no herd member gets left behind."

Ducky, Petrie and Spike nodded in agreement, but Cera remained quiet, her expression almost unreadable.

"Now then," Littlefoot finished, "we're going to find our big brother and we're going to apologise and ask for a story he promised us."

"Oh, that right, he promise he tell us about Sauro," Petrie yelped, flapping his wings frantically.

"Come on!" Littlefoot urged and he grabbed his treestar in his mouth, while Spike grabbed a large pile of green food in his mouth and bolted after him. Cera remained standing where she was for a moment, seemingly thinking about following before she grunted something and took after them.

They didn't have to go very far. Whiplash's foot marks led them to the outer edge of the forest, and they spotted his familiar form curled tightly near a fresh pool of calm, clear water. The Night Circle was beginning its rise and it cast its cool reflection in the pool. It's soft white rays cold, but gentle, and it illuminated Whiplash's greyish brown skin.

"Whiplash?" Littlefoot called quietly, approaching slowly.

At the sound of his footsteps, Whiplash lifted his head and whipped around to face him.

He flinched when he saw his older brother's calm face brim with tear streaks. For the first time in his life, Littlefoot was seeing the rock that was blocking Whiplash's emotions shattering to tiny pieces. He'd never seen him express many emotions apart from small smiles or his rage at Cera's father for threatening to harm him. But when the fight start, the rock had completely crumbled, leaving him open for all to see.

Cautiously, Littlefoot crawled forward and curled up between Whiplash's forelegs, surprising him.

The others came forward and curled up against his side, but Cera remained where she was, her eyes looking at nothing but the ground.

"I'm sorry we upset you, Whiplash," Littlefoot said sincerely. "I know you don't like talking about personal things, but its okay to talk. If you want to, we're here to listen."

"Yes, we are sorry we did not say anything," Ducky spoke up. "But Spike is grateful you helpeded him, yup, yup, yup."

Spike nodded and gave Whiplash a big slobbery lick on his scarred cheek.

"Me wanted to help too," Petrie added, "but… too scared."

Whiplash nodded in understanding, a small grateful smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

Five pairs of eyes fell upon the last remaining member who hadn't spoken since they came to find Whiplash. The young threehorn had still been staring at the ground, uncomfortably pawing at it.

"Don't you have something to say, Cera?" Littlefoot asked with a frown.

Cera looked at Whiplash for a moment, and then dropped her gaze shamefully.

"I'm sorry for what I said before," she said simply.

"It's alright," Whiplash replied tentatively.

The large longneck didn't want to push the matter any further, but Cera didn't sound very sincere. It was there, but very subtle. She sounded rather embarrassed, if anything.

"Plus, you promised us a story about Sauro," Littlefoot spoke up, changing the subject.

Whiplash's eyes widened in realisation. "Stars, I forgot." He bowed his head and gestured to Cera to come and sit with them. Humbly, she climbed over his tail nestled beside Spike, although she refrained from touching him completely. "Get comfortable, it's quite a story. Well, actually, it's more of a story about how a hero tricked Sauro, rather than a creation story."

Littlefoot beamed up at Whiplash as he curled his tail around them and gazed up at the Night Circle, his yellow eyes glowing in its soft light. He cleared his throat and began his tale.

* * *

 _"Sauro had just finished making the world as we know it today and decided to rest. Unfortunately, there was no life around to eat the plants. The Night Circle did not want to be outdone by the Bright Circle, who had made the plants so he picked up a pawful of dirt and blew on it, creating life that would eat the plants and grow from it. The Bright Circle did not like how her trees were being eaten, so, to counter this, she sang, and the trees grew in height to hear her beautiful voice._

 _"When the leaf eaters saw what was happening, they wailed in sadness and fear. They relied on the trees to feed them and to grow. Without food, they would slowly die unless the creatures that had separated themselves after developing a taste for meat would eat them first._

 _"It was eventually decided that someone should seek out Sauro for help. A young short-neck named Sky Gazer, who enjoyed looking up at the stars, the Night Circle and the Bright Circle whenever he could, volunteered to see what he could do. He ventured out the next day and travelled across a large forest, fought against bloodthirsty sharp-teeth, and braved the vast sand plains, until he arrived at Sauro's sleeping spot, a large mountain that held mazes of caverns._

 _"Now Sky Gazer was a very clever fellow, and he knew that Sauro was very powerful and did not like to be woken up unless it was very important. So, he waited for two days and two nights, never eating and never drinking. On the third day, after witnessing the Night Circle lose his race with his sister again, Sky Gazer cautiously strolled the caverns, relying on his sense of smell to find the Great One._

 _"Once or twice, he got lost, but the sounds of Sauro's snoring and thoughts of starving, fearful leaf eaters made him keep going. He stopped when he found a chamber and Sauro sleeping inside. He took a deep breath and called out to him a loud voice, 'O' Great One, I seek you for it is important!'_

 _"Sauro woke up with a start, surprised. He soon thought it was his son speaking to him, so he replied gently, 'What do you need, my son?'_

 _"'My sister sang too much and my leaf eaters are starving,' Sky Gazer called. 'I don't know what to do to assist them and I am tired from chasing her across the Sky.'_

 _"Sauro grew concerned and immediately agreed that the problem should be solved. 'There is a bush in the middle of the meadow near my cave,' he explained, 'eat its green food and you will be given the knowledge to save them. But be warned, eat the white food and you will become very tired.'_

 _"Sky Gazer was cautious, but he did as instructed and found the bush that Sauro had described. The green food smelt funny and the white petals smelt very fragrant and made him quite sleepy when he touched it with his tongue. He ate the green food, but it tasted quite bad. The moment he swallowed, he was filled with knowledge!_

 _"Unfortunately, Sauro figured out he had been tricked and he was not at all pleased, but he had to give Sky Gazer credit for being smart._

 _"Now that Sky Gazer knew what to do, he raced back to the others as fast as he could, but not before he heard Sauro's voice echo from inside the caves: 'You tricked me with your cavern voice, Sky Gazer, but your fate will be sealed the moment you speak your knowledge. While your kind will feast on the trees, only you will rely on stones to help you eat them.'_

 _"But Sky Gazer didn't care, and when he returned and explained what Sauro had told him, the leaf eaters became skeptical. According to the knowledge, they were to sing to the Night Circle when he was in the middle of chasing his sister. But eventually, Sky Gazer was able to convince them and they sang all night long to the Night Circle._

 _"The Night Circle heard their pleasant song and cast his cool rays upon them, shining and pulling them up. Their necks began to stretch until they could finally eat from the tops of the trees. While those that didn't sing ate the plants on the ground, thinking themselves as humble and satisfied with life._

 _"Sky Gazer felt accomplished, but he had to resort to what Sauro had warned him about. He had to swallow stones to help him chew his green food, but it made life difficult for him. Nevertheless, his kind enjoyed theirs, unaware of the suffering their saviour was going through."_

* * *

Whiplash opened his eyes and stared softly down at the children. All of them were staring up at him in awe and wonder.

"Wow," Littlefoot breathed.

Whiplash smiled thankfully, and he bowed his head in acknowledgement.

Ducky clapped. "It was a good story, it was, it was."

Spike nodded in agreement.

Whiplash's face fell somewhat and Littlefoot placed a paw on one of his forelegs, he gazed down, sucking in a deep breath. "I think it's time I told you some of my past," he said softly, and they became tense with concern. "Keep in mind that there are some details I wish to not speak of, for they are far too painful."

They nodded respectfully.

Whiplash gazed up at the Night Circle, mentally praying to Sauro to give him inner strength. "I was alone," he began, "because my herd had exiled me for something that was beyond my control."

There was a small gasp, but no one said anything as he continued.

"The Council of Elders thought I had killed someone important, but its not entirely true. I just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. I was charged with exile." His eyes soon burned with anger and he slapped his tail on the ground. "They cast me out despite how it was obvious that I didn't. I would never harm someone who stood up for me after taking me and my father into their herd!"

"What happen to your father?" Petrie asked.

"I'm not sure," Whiplash replied, his gaze now fighting back tears of pain. "All I remember was saying goodbye to him and… some others and then leaving that very same night."

Spike came up and licked his cheek sympathetically, and he nodded gratefully.

"I swore I would never go back to the herd for as long as I'm alive and breathing," he continued. "Not unless I was given a good enough reason to do so. I asked a friend to keep an eye on things back home. I was alone for five cold times, travelling and relying on my father's training to keep me alive. It wasn't until I met your herd, Littlefoot, that I found a reason to live on. For five more cold times, I got to enjoy what it felt like to be in a herd that truly cared about one another rather than relying on a hierarchy. I had a purpose again."

Littlefoot pressed deeper into him and Whiplash lowered his head to nuzzle him affectionately.

"Do you have anyone, besides your father, waiting for you back home?" Cera asked quietly.

The question baffled him for a moment, but he recovered and nodded. "Yes, three of them actually. Loca and Locus are two very dear friends of mine, but…" His gaze soon became soft filled with love. "The other is… she's… something truly special. She's kind, she's very compassionate. I think you would've all liked her if you met her. There's no one else I'd trust with my life with than her."

"What's her name?" Littlefoot asked.

The love behind Whiplash's eyes became more noticeable as he recalled images of her fondly. "Skyback."

"What does she look like?" Ducky questioned.

Whiplash closed his eyes for a moment. "She has this lovely pale blue stripe that goes along her head, back and tail, which gave her name. Her skin is the richest brown, darker than mine, and her eyes are a calm blue that always seems to tell you that you can trust her."

Cera rolled her eyes. "Oh brother," she said sarcastically.

Whiplash's eyes became downcast again. "I just wish I could have told her how I felt," he admitted.

"I'm sure you will someday, Whiplash," Littlefoot reassured him, only to yawn.

Without saying a word, Whiplash gently curled his tail around them.

Grateful, Littlefoot yawned deeply and fell to sleep with the others.

Whiplash watched them a moment longer and he turned his yellow eyes up to the starry night sky, a large one twinkling brightly some distance from the Night Circle. If his mother was looking down right now, he would imagine she was feeling proud of him for taking another step closer toward his goal.


	10. Fight For What It's Worth

**Hello people! Sorry I took so long, a lot of things are happening right now with the Christmas holidays just around the corner. Hope this chapter of asskicking is really worth the wait!  
**

* * *

 **Brothers Under the Bright Circle**

* * *

 **Chapter 10**

 **Fight For What It's Worth**

* * *

For the entire night, Whiplash watched over the sleeping children, only taking brief moments to close his eyes to rest and then waking up again to begin the watch anew. He hadn't noticed the Bright Circle was beginning to peak over the distant mountains until its rays hit him in the eye. It was still quite early to wake them up, but he laid his head on the ground to get some feeling back in his neck. From the corner of his eye, he watched the children sleep.

Spike was resting on his back, legs dangling in the air and twitching, but his face held a broad smile. Ducky and Petrie were curled up together on top of Spike's stomach, as though they had been averting the cold. Littlefoot was still curled up between Whiplash's neck and foot, a supposedly peaceful smile on his lips, his breathing deep and slow. Cera rested comfortably near the edge of Whiplash's tail, while she was hidden from view in case bold predators came near them, if she woke up, she could easily look over his tail if she lifted her head above her paws.

For one long peaceful moment, Whiplash allowed them to sleep a little while longer, but there was something about the air didn't feel right.

It was quiet.

Almost every morning there had been a sound that made the world around them feel alive, like the flapping of a buzzer or the squawking of a flyer. But at this moment, there was nothing, and it made Whiplash's many cold times of experience kick into overdrive. He knew that something was very wrong, and one single movement from him could set whatever was causing the stillness into motion.

Slowly he lifted his head off the ground and nudged the children, causing them to stir.

"What's…?" Littlefoot yawned, but Whiplash silenced him with a hard stare.

A low growl pulsed through the air behind Whiplash some distance away and immediately the children shut their mouths. Although he didn't want to scare them anymore than they already were, he focused his eyes on a large wall of rocks some distance from their position.

"I'm going to distract whatever is coming," Whiplash whispered softly. "It doesn't know that you're here." He said quickly when they looked even more nervous. "My scent is keeping yours hidden. Move fast and move silently."

Frowning, Cera slowly peeked over Whiplash's tail and she froze when she spotted what was making the noise. She gulped and trembled violently. "It's Sharptooth," she hissed.

Littlefoot turned to her swiftly. "Cera, Sharptooth is dead!" he growled.

She shook her head defiantly, the terror clear as day in her eyes.

"Be quiet, both of you," Whiplash ordered, forcing the two opposites to be silent as the growling grew louder. "I don't care who or what it is. I need you to listen to me for once and run down there." He gestured with his eyes and they spotted a dried-up riverbed. "It will keep you covered and out of his line of sight while I keep him occupied. Follow it and get up to the top of those rocks."

Not wanting to experience his anger a second time after last night's dispute, Ducky and Petrie hastily climbed onto Spike's back. With Whiplash keeping his back facing whatever was coming, the sounds of its footsteps getting louder with each step it took, they crouched down low and crept down into the riverbed.

As they moved silently and quickly, Littlefoot kept glancing over his shoulder worriedly.

Whiplash hadn't moved from his position, and the children were far too low to see what was approaching him, but the unmistakable thumping of footfalls causing little pebbles to bounce on the dirt told Littlefoot that whatever was coming was extremely big and very heavy.

"Why is he not moving?" Ducky whispered nervously, glancing over her shoulder.

"He's distracting it," Littlefoot explained.

"How he do that?" Petrie questioned.

"By pretending he's still asleep, that's what he's doing," Cera hissed, her eyes darting back. "But I swear I saw Sharptooth."

Littlefoot glared at her but refrained from raising his voice least whatever was coming heard them.

The stomping from the behemoth caused them to hasten their pace as they reached the end of the riverbed. Littlefoot stepped aside to let Spike and Cera pass by while he checked to make sure that Whiplash's plan was working.

Then he stopped when he realised that something was missing.

His treestar?!

Littlefoot darted his head left and right, searching frantically for the last gift his mother gave to him, but there was no sign of it anywhere. His head darted up as it dawned on him that he had left it back at their resting spot where Whiplash was still huddled down. Maybe there was still time to get it before the beast attacked?

"Littlefoot, come on!" Cera called from above, her voice low but still loud enough for him to hear.

He looked up and saw Cera and Spike were already climbing up the rock's face.

"But my treestar," he exclaimed. "I can't leave it!"

"It too late!" Petrie shouted.

Whiplash's tail moved faster than anything Littlefoot had ever seen as it snaked out and wrapped around the sharptooth's leg. With a single twitch of a muscle, he pulled it back and the beast roared as it tripped and landed on its back. Whiplash was up on his feet within seconds and he sidestepped aside, tail curled, neck lowered, eyes focused on his attacker.

Littlefoot quickly clambered up the rock's face, his paws and muscles straining with effort, but he dared to look back and his eyes widened with surprise when he saw the monster get back up on its three clawed feet.

It was Sharptooth! Cera had been telling the truth!

"Faster, Littlefoot!" Ducky cried.

Littlefoot didn't need to be told twice as he scrambled up as fast as he could. He was grateful when both Cera and Spike grabbed his forelegs with their mouths and pulled him up to safety. He darted back to the edge and witnessed a battle that rivalled that of his mother's fight with Sharptooth.

Sharptooth was back on his feet, one red eye staring furiously with burning rage, but one eye was shut tightly. He took one long look at his target and roared loudly, the air vibrating with power and vengeance. Whiplash kept his tail curled in preparation to strike as he backed away slowly, keeping a firm eye on his enemy. One wrong move, one glance away and he would find himself with another set of scratches on his side. He made that mistake once before and it cost him and Littlefoot dearly.

The big longneck suddenly reared up on his hind legs, making himself even taller, trying to intimidate Sharptooth. The sharp claws on his inner front feet flailed threateningly, causing Sharptooth to pause as he circled around, searching for an opening. Whiplash came crashing down a loud earth-shaking bang, kicking up dust.

Again, Sharptooth paused, but he showed no sign of backing down. His one good eye rested on something noticeable. The still healing scratches on his left side had faded somewhat, but they still stood out amongst Whiplash's brownish grey skin.

Sharptooth bared his teeth and lunged forward with his jaws open wide.

Whiplash reared up again, with the predator's teeth snapping at thin air. He smashed downward in an attempt to crush his skull into a bloody mess, but Sharptooth noticed this and he shifted easily to Whiplash's left, his head slamming into his still healing side with a sickening crunch.

The large longneck cried out as Sharptooth headbutted him, the pain dazing him momentarily, but it was more than enough for Sharptooth to make his next move. He grabbed onto Whiplash's left foreleg and bit down with bone crushing force.

Searing hot pain pierced through Whiplash's senses and he bellowed in agony.

The smell and taste of blood reached Sharptooth's nostrils and it drove him into a wild frenzy. The black slit in his good eye constricted and he bit down harder.

Despite the pain coursing through his body, Whiplash reared up again on his hind legs, dislodging the beast. He came back down, but this time, his long tail cut through the air toward Sharptooth's blind spot. Sharptooth seemed to hear the whistling air and he pulled his back at the last second, but not before the tip of Whiplash's tail sharply brushed against his injured eye, drawing blood.

With the blood of his enemy mixing with his water stained face, Sharptooth retreated a few steps away, using a tiny arm to wipe the pain away. But the moment of respite did not last for him as a loud sound cracked near his head. He shrieked as the world became silent and rang in a way he had never heard before.

Not one to wait for his enemy to recover, Whiplash charged at him, his shoulder slamming into Sharptooth's side. The satisfying howl of pain reached his ears as Sharptooth rolled half of his tail length away, his legs kicked out and his tiny arms flailed, struggling to get back on his feet.

Whiplash snorted in amusement, a smirk crossing his lips and he turned away to savour his victory.

But Sharptooth was undeterred, and with unnatural strength for his kind, he got back on his feet and blindly charged at Whiplash, a roar of fury and hatred escaping his blood dripping maw. His head connected with Whiplash's injured side and he buckled, his face meeting the ground.

"Whiplash!" Littlefoot shouted worriedly.

Slowly, Whiplash got back on his feet, dazed from the impact, spitting up dirt and blood. His legs shook as he struggled to get back on his feet. A heavy weight fell on his neck, knocking the wind out from his lungs. Large sharp claws dug into his flesh and he winced.

A blood crazed smirk crossed Sharptooth's monstrous jaws as he leans over Whiplash's side and grabbed his injured leg, biting down with enough force to draw blood, but not to kill. A scream of agony erupted from Whiplash's mouth as the beast bit him again.

This wasn't a hunt, it was torture!

Sharptooth was making his prey suffer before he killed him, and the longneck was going to pay dearly for what he and his herd did to him. The little longneck would suffer the same fate when he got a hold of him, but for now… he would settle on playing with his prey.

"Me no look!" Petrie shouted, covering his face with his wings.

"We gotta do something!" Ducky cried, her teeth chattering with fear and helplessness. "We do, we do!"

"But what can we do against a monster like Sharptooth?" Cera shot back. "We're just hatchlings!"

With horror gripping his heart as each bite that met the skin of his older brother, Littlefoot felt just as helpless as his friends. Memories of his mother suffering the same fate as Whiplash flashed across his mind and it sent emotions of terror and anger coursing through his body. Watching Whiplash go through this wasn't going to help the situation, it was making it worse. They had to do something without endangering themselves!

With determination burning in his mind, Littlefoot ran toward the edge of the cliff with Cera and the others close behind.

Once his feet touched the edge, Littlefoot pointed a paw at Ducky and Petrie.

"Grab as many rocks as you can," he instructed firmly.

They nodded firmly and started to gather as much rocks as they could carry. Once they got a pile big enough, they each picked up a rock and pelted it at Sharptooth's face, causing him to pause in his biting.

Littlefoot turned to Cera and she looked back at him.

"Smash up the bigger rocks into smaller pieces," he ordered, "the smaller the better. Spike and I will use our tails to hit him."

She opened her mouth to retort but stopped short. This was no time for her to bring up the fact that she was right and he was wrong, arguments could be settled later. Right now, they needed a plan and Littlefoot had one. She complied for once and charged into large pieces of rocks, her thick skull crushing them.

Littlefoot nodded to Spike, and the young spiketail lifted his tail to hurl as much rocks as he could. Littlefoot did the same, never once stopping to catch his breath, as his still growing tail flipped up a rock and slapped it in the direction of Sharptooth's face. That single rock connected with his sore eye and Sharptooth roared with pain.

"Yeah, bullseye!" Cera shouted with glee.

While the pelting of tiny rocks on his skin annoyed Sharptooth, having a few hitting his injured eye made him angrier.

Unfortunately, he took his eye off his intended target.

Sensing the change in weight on his neck, Whiplash gathered whatever strength he had left and pushed up with his back, causing Sharptooth to lose his balance and topple to the side. But Whiplash doesn't let up and his thin tail lashed out at Sharptooth's head, blinding him with white hot pain. He snaked his tail around his leg once again and pulled with all the strength he had left.

A look of horror and realisation crossed Sharptooth's face as the last thing he saw was a large pillar of rocks and the look of triumph on the longneck's face.

The rocks crumbled and piled up on top of Sharptooth, burying him alive for the time being.

Panting and gritting his teeth with pain, Whiplash picked himself up off the ground and limped away from the unconscious monster the steep ledge where the children were waiting for him. He painfully climbed up, every step hurting, but he bit down, trying to put as much distance as he could between himself and Sharptooth.

Littlefoot and the others immediately stepped aside as the blood covered longneck rose up and collapsed on the flat top with a loud crash, sending dust flying in his wake. The children cheer as they ran over to his field of vision, embracing and nuzzling him affectionately.

"Ow, ow!" Whiplash winced when they touched a sensitive spot. "Please be careful."

"We are glad that you are alive, Whiplash," Ducky nodded, "we are, we are."

"Me never thought you could do it," Petrie said frantically, petting his snout.

A small smile crossed Whiplash's lips. "If it wasn't for those rocks," he told them, "I would have been dead."

"You should thank Littlefoot for that," Cera grunted, pointing her horn in his direction. "He came up with the plan in the first place."

Whiplash shifted his gaze to his little brother, but Littlefoot did not look as happy and as relieved as the others, if anything he looked downhearted and scared. He waited patiently for him to speak, giving him some time to gather his thoughts together.

"I thought…" Littlefoot stammered, as tears fell down his cheeks, "I thought Sharptooth was going to kill you like he did to mother. I was so scared, Whiplash!"

Whiplash pressed his muzzle against his side comfortingly and he burrowed his face into his soft skin.

"Shh, it's alright, Littlefoot," he whispered gently. "I'm here, and I'm alive."

Littlefoot pulled away as he turned to Cera, who was frowning at him. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you," he said. "When you made up that part about standing up to Sharptooth…"

"If Cera had not fabricated a small part of the story," Whiplash put in, "I would have believed her myself. However, what's past is past. We cannot dwell on apologies, we need to get moving again, put as much distance as we can between us and Sharptooth."

"But you are hurted, Whiplash," Ducky said, pointing at his injured leg.

"It can wait," Whiplash hissed stubbornly. "Sharptooth will not stay buried for long." He stiffly pushed himself up, his legs shaking with pain and loss of energy from the fight. "We either move now or Sharptooth wakes up and takes advantage of my weakened state."

Cera huffed and pawed at the ground, her eyes averted. She wouldn't admit to Whiplash that he was right, but the fact remained that if she hadn't said that she had bravely stood up to Sharptooth instead of telling the truth, they would have all believed her.

"Littlefoot, your treestar…"

Littlefoot's shoulders sunk in despair as Whiplash pointed out what he wished he hadn't left behind.

Understanding and sympathy crossed his brother's face and he gently stroked his back with the tip of his tail. The last gift Littlefoot's mother had given him was either buried amongst rubble or trampled during the fighting.

Whiplash sighed and limped to the other side of the ledge with the others following, his shoulder ached with pain as blood slowly dripped from the wound, but he ignored it. Right now, they had to focus on getting away quickly.

He gazed down at their surroundings and his eyes widened when he spotted an unusual rock formation.

"Littlefoot," he called.

Littlefoot hurried over and Whiplash gestured with his head toward the strange looking rock, a rock that looked like a longneck without a tail.

"Is that…?" Whiplash asked.

"It's the rock that looks like a longneck," Littlefoot gasped, "just like mother said!"

With Sharptooth behind them for the time being, their spirits were lifted at the sight of hope for the first time in days since their separation. They set off once again, bloody and hurt, but very much alive and triumphant.

The Great Valley had never felt so close, and so real.

* * *

The Night Circle began its rise to the sky, casting its soft light on the dry landscape below.

An enormous pile of boulders trembled slightly as something large and powerful shifted beneath it, trying to escape. It stopped for a brief moment as its prisoner regained some of its strength to break free. He shifted slightly, gathering his legs beneath his body and heaved.

The rocks rained down and Sharptooth shook himself free, his aching muscles winced as he tested every part of his body to make sure nothing was broken. Satisfied that nothing would hamper him. He shook the dust from his dark green scales and lifted his head to the night sky, sniffing deeply.

The scent of the longnecks and the other hatchings had faded hours ago and he growled in anger.

His revenge was delayed… for now.

Frustrated he threw his head and roared loudly, the landscape echoing and fading into the distance. He turned and lashed out with his tail, breaking a few rocks in the process and causing more pain to his stiff and aching body, but he didn't care.

Once his senses had been gathered again, he paused to think for a moment.

Could it be possible that the leafeaters were heading for the Great Valley?

That had to be the only explanation, and why they were so desperate to reach safety and food.

Well, fortunately for him, he had been there once in the past. He knew a shortcut to get there, and by the time they reached their destination, there would be nothing left but a bloodbath waiting for them.

One way or another, he would have his revenge.


End file.
